Blind Descent
by Shikami Yamino
Summary: Some fall fast and hard... others simply descend without even realising it. Mainly AkiHika:HikaAki with a bit of SumiWaya. [Part 13 of 15]
1. Part 1: Ramen

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** I should be studying and working on my assignments... but this idea popped into my head while reading the manga and wouldn't leave me alone until I'd written up a plan. And then I really couldn't concentrate anymore because Akira and Hikaru decided to be cute and act out bits of the story in my head ^^;;; The result was this little tid-bit to appease my muses and let me study in peace *L* Mostly likely to be continued after I've finished my assessments -_-;;

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 1 - Ramen**  


A sunny mid-November afternoon found the ground floor of the Japanese Go Institute in Tokyo a hive of activity. Amatuers and spectators of all ages crowded the open halls, some playing or watching, others intently listening to the explanations of the exhibition games. The available go professionals, especially the younger ones, also sought to make an appearance in the spirit of promoting the game. In the words of Ogata 10-dan, the new wave of young go players needed a constant inflow of new talent. It could not afford to be allowed to stagnate if Japan was going to even have a chance of competing with go power-houses Korea and China in future international tournaments. 

Nineteen year old Shindou Hikaru politely nodded at a teenaged girl after his nth consecutive game of shidougo as she moved away from his table. He had been accosted by the organisers as soon as he had walked in the front doors that morning, and firmly planted at the shidougo tables with the plea that playing a high-level young pro would encourage more youngsters to try go. But it was now almost mid-afternoon and his stomach had been growling for the last two games while his legs kindly informed him that if he didn't stand up and let the blood circulate soon, they would make sure that he wasn't getting anywhere by walking tonight. 

Pushing back from his seat before anyone else had a chance to snag the seat in front of him, Hikaru looked up and down the long table. Waya and Isumi-san were still deep in the middle of their games to his left. Though judging from Waya's fidgety position, Hikaru decided that they weren't going to last there much longer either. To his right, striking blue eyes under a fringe of midnight-dark hair caught his own green ones as Touya Akira also rose from his seat. 

Hikaru grinned and gingerly walked over to his long-time rival and friend, mindful of his rebellious legs. "I'm starving! Wanna go get lunch?" 

Akira nodded once in reply and the two rising stars of the professional go world made haste for the exit. 

Once outside, Hikaru raised his arms above his head and let out a long groan. "Man... I never thought I'd get of there. Shidougo's all well and good but my legs were growing numb!" 

"Growing old already Shindou?" Akira smirked, well used to the other boy's rambling speeches. 

Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "You can't talk! You arrived late!" 

"Don't forget we still have that exhibition game later this afternoon," Akira reminded. 

A smug grin was all he got in return. 

"No way I'd forget that! It's my chance to crush you in front of an audience!" 

Akira raised an eyebrow in just that fashion that rubbed Hikaru the wrong way and hid a smile as Hikaru almost bristled like a cat right in front of his eyes. "We'll see who crushes who." 

Spying the ramen stand in the distance, Akira speeded up his steps, hoping to turn into a side-street and avoid what was sure to be the other boy's destination. It wasn't that he had anything against ramen. Quite the opposite. He probably liked ramen just as much as the next guy on the street; just as long as that guy didn't happen to be a young man with bleached-blonde bangs going by the name of Shindou Hikaru. 

Sure enough, even after just one step in a different direction, he was stalled by a loud voice calling his name. 

"Oi! Touya! Where are you going? I thought we were going to lunch!" 

Akira turned. "We are. But we're going for 'lunch', not 'ramen'." 

Hikaru frowned. "What's wrong with ramen?" 

"There's nothing wrong with ramen," Akira said with a roll of his eyes. "But with you, every time we go out for food, it's always ramen!" 

His frown turning into a light scowl, Hikaru retorted, "It's not *always* ramen!" 

"Oh yeah? Name a time!" 

After a moment's thought, Hikaru's dark face cleared up to be replaced by a mischievous look. "There was that time when we went to McDonald's!" 

Akira blinked and could feel a slight blush beginning to spread over his cheeks. He was then mortified as his companion started laughing. 

"Man, Touya! I still don't think I've ever seen anyone eat a hamburger and fries that neatly in my entire life." 

"I'm just naturally neat!" Akira protested, willing the light blush to go away. 

Hikaru stopped laughing long enough to cast an incredulous look Akira's way. "Touya, you asked me where the knife and fork were." 

Trying to hide his embarrassment, Akira whirled and marched off the in the direction of the ramen stand. "Forget it, let's just go eat." 

Hikaru stood on the footpath chuckling for a few seconds more at that amusing memory before hurrying off after Akira. "Oi! Touya, wait up!" 

~~ 

Minutes later, Hikaru and Akira sat at a table munching on their ramen just as a loud voice interrupted them. 

"Shindou! Touya! Thought we'd find you guys here." 

Ignoring the pointed glare that Akira threw him, as if to say 'See? Even they know you're always here!', Hikaru turned to wave Waya and Isumi over. 

Quick to collapse ungracefully into an empty chair, Waya Yoshitaka didn't hesitate before following Hikaru's example and loosening his shirt collar and tie. "I'm bushed! They just wouldn't stop coming!" 

As Hikaru agreed and both began to lament their morning, the dark-haired Isumi Shinichirou smiled indulgently at his brown-haired companion. He then took his own seat quietly, nodding a greeting in Akira's direction. "Touya." 

Akira nodded back, not bothering to hide the amused glint in his eyes at the other two boys' lively banter. Sometime between his seven years of rivalry with Hikaru, four of which had been spent in a tentative but strong friendship, he and Waya had come to some kind of understanding. Despite this, Akira still found himself getting along better with the older Isumi. "Do you have anything planned for the afternoon sessions Isumi-san?" 

Isumi shook his head as he gave both his order and Waya's to the waitress, seeing as Waya was too busy in conversation to notice. "No... and after that morning, I'm reluctant to play any more shidougo." He allowed himself a small grimace. It hadn't escaped his attention that most of the young people crowding his shidougo table had been of the female gender, many with only the bare minimum skills in go. 

Catching the grimace, Akira smiled sympathetically at the older pro. It was a well documented fact ever since Isumi became pro at the age of 19 and began attending go conventions as a pro that most females aged 15-25 who attended preferred to flock to wherever he was at. Now at 22 and still 'unattached', the problem had been steadily worsening, causing Isumi to avoid a fair number of go conventions. 

Casting a quick glance at the animated Waya, Akira had to amusedly wonder what the other pro thought of Isumi's popularity. Their relationship, as far as Akira could remember, had always been extremely close. But during their trip to China together last year, something had changed. And though it wasn't obvious to the general public or to many of their friends in the pro go circle, the change was pretty blatant to Hikaru, and thus in turn, Akira. 

Isumi didn't miss the brief flicker of Akira's eyes to Waya and hid a small smile. So much for attempting not to be obvious about it. Yet perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised that Akira, and maybe even Hikaru, had figured out his relationship with Waya. Darting his own eyes curiously from the quietly eating Akira to the excitedly talking Hikaru, Isumi pondered the true depths of their relationship. 

It wasn't as if he was the only one with female problems. Waya had had quite a number, but had always purposely frightened them off with his loud and boisterous personality. Touya was yet another; the only difference being that Touya never noticed the sheer number of females who tended to hang around him, afraid to approach. Not that Isumi blamed the girls. The intensity of the air around Touya anytime he was near a goban was one that only go professionals would understand. It was an air that demanded respect from his fellow pros but also served as a surprisingly effective barrier against the majority of female advances. 

As for the other half of the equation, Isumi had to smile. For Shindou, there had been no one but Touya in his sights ever since he became an insei at thirteen, maybe even longer than that. It was the basis of their rivalry and subsequent friendship. But now that there were obvious signs of liberties being allowed each other that neither would allow anyone else, Isumi suspected that there was more to the relationship than perhaps even the two in question knew about. 

The return of the waitress with two more bowls of ramen effectively put a halt to Hikaru and Waya's conversation. Taking the opportunity, Isumi said to Akira, "But since we're not doing anything, maybe we should come watch your exhibition game with Shindou." 

"Yeah! Come watch!" replied an ecstatic Hikaru. "I'm gonna crush Touya today!" 

This raised Akira's head from his food to glare at his friend. "Who says I'm not going to crush you?" 

Hikaru smiled like the cat that ate the canary. "Just a feeling I have." 

An angry retort from Akira effectively began the verbal war and Waya rolled his eyes at the two as he dug into his ramen. 

Isumi chuckled lightly. Whatever the relationship between Shindou and Touya, it certainly didn't stop them from fighting like cats and dogs every once in a while. 

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**End Part 1... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** An extremely uneventful but necessary background-setting part to what will turn out to be a pretty fluffy fic ^^;; In my opinion anyway. Let me know what you think.


	2. Part 2: Of Conversations and Apartments

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** *blinks* I don't usually churn out parts this fast... *cringe* those damned muses always work overtime when they know that I have assessments coming up... ^^;; Thanks to everybody for their reviews!!

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 2 - Of Conversations and Apartments**  


It was already dark by the time the two young men made it onto a train that would take them home. 

Stripping off his tie, Hikaru let out a tired sigh as he leaned against a vacant wall in the empty carriage. "The explanations for that game took forever!" 

Even Akira looked slightly drained, lightly holding onto a pole for balance. "Muramaki-san probably would have dragged it on longer if they didn't have to usher all the people out of the hall and end the convention." 

Hikaru snorts. "Yeah... we probably would have been there till midnight. I think my cheeks are sore from standing up there and smiling so much." 

At that, Akira cracked a small smile and was promptly painfully reminded of how sore his own cheeks were. 

Looking up at just the right moment, Hikaru caught Akira's controlled wince and tried to stop himself from grinning to spare his own cheeks. Needless to say, he failed miserably and his accompanying noise of pain set Akira off until both were laughing off the stress of a long day. 

Finally getting himself under control, Akira's eyes glinted his amusement as he watched Hikaru rub his cheeks to loosen the muscles. "It was a good game though." 

"Uh-huh," Hikaru agreed. "Probably one of the best we've played." Here, he inserted a playful glare. "Expect to be creamed the next time we play though." 

Akira smirked. It had been a narrow win of half a moku, but a win nonetheless. Although their record of games played both professionally and privately against each other still stood in Akira's favor, he had no doubts that the gap would someday soon become non-existent. 

Hikaru's stomach chose that moment to announce its displeasure at still being empty at such a late hour. Smiling sheepishly, Hikaru tried to remember if there were still a few packages of instant ramen in his cupboards. "I hope there's still instant ramen left from last week's groceries..." 

"You have an unhealthy obsession with ramen, instant or otherwise." 

In a stunning display of maturity, Hikaru stuck out his tongue at the other boy. "There's nothing wrong with liking instant ramen." 

"Except for the fact that you've been living on your own for eight months now and you still can't cook anything more complicated than toast without setting off your fire alarms." 

Reddening, Hikaru protested, "That was just once!!" 

Akira snickered. A few years of steady friendship had caused the laughter and good humour to come easier to him. And baiting Hikaru was going to be a habit, acquired strangely enough from Waya, that he wouldn't tire of anytime soon. "The only reason it hasn't happened again, is because you've never tried cooking again and your mother has been bringing over proper food every now and then for you to heat up." 

"Hey! Shut up!" 

Chuckling at Hikaru's red face, Akira decided to be kind and let it go. For now. "At least it's your weekend at your parents' house tomorrow." 

"Yeah... proper food..." Hikaru grinned and Akira could almost see thoughts of homemade ramen dancing above his friend's head. 

Hikaru had an interesting arrangement with his parents as a condition of his moving out. Being the only child, he had been his mother's little boy, and she had been extremely reluctant in allowing him to move out into his own apartment. As a trade-off, Hikaru had agreed to spend one non-game weekend a month at his parents' house to keep his mother company. In Akira's opinion however, it probably wasn't so much that he could keep his mother company but that his mother wanted to check up on him. Which had good reason given Hikaru's distinct lack of domestic skills in the food department. 

Akira on the other hand, had always been independent as a result of his father's career as a pro go player. As his mother tended to accompany his father on his away matches, Akira had learnt from a young age how to fend for himself when his parents were out. So while they had been reluctant to see him move out of their family home, they had understood that with his father spending so much time playing Go in China, Akira would be spending the majority of his time at home by himself in any case. Thus, they had fully supported him when he had decided to exercise his independence and moved into a small but comfortable apartment. 

Overhead, the announcement of their station was made, shaking both young men from their thoughts. As the train cruised to a stop, both tucked their hands into their jacket pockets to protect them from the evening chill and made their way out of the station. 

"How are your parents? Heard from them recently?" Hikaru asked, always curious about the former Meijin's life. Needless to say, no matter how much Akira said his father was enjoying life after retirement, a small measure of guilt still lingered in Hikaru's mind about the bet that had caused such a major uproar in the go world. 

"They're fine. I received a letter from them a few days ago. Otou-san won another of his matches with the Beijing team, and Okaa-san says she's never seen him so lively and contented." Akira smiled to himself. "She says retirement is good for him, and from what I've seen I have to agree." 

Lifting his head to gaze at the stars, Hikaru allowed himself a small grin. "That's good to hear." 

Akira darted a look at his companion out of the corner of his eye but refrained from saying anything. Hikaru still owed him an explanation about Sai, but he was content to wait until Hikaru was ready, knowing from experience that there was only so far one could push Shindou Hikaru before he started pushing back. 

Climbing the stairs to their apartment block, both went through the familiar motions of getting in the elevator and punching the button for the fifth floor. When the elevator doors opened, the two pros parted ways with a friendly wave and smile, and headed for their separate apartments. 

It had been a pure coincidence that both had ended up moving out of their family homes around the same time. It had been even more of a coincidence that they had both ended up in the same newly constructed apartment block and on the same floor. 

Letting himself into his apartment and heading straight for the shower, Hikaru never failed to be amused at the memory of his moving day. 

~~ 

He and his mother had arrived on the scene much earlier than the moving trucks that had to cope with Tokyo morning traffic. Taking advantage of the opportunity, they wandered around getting a better feel for the area. 

"It is awfully nice," Hikaru's mother had commented in a reassured yet grudging way. "Laundry room in the basement, convenience shops and the train station a short walk away." 

Hikaru laughed. "That's why we picked this place, Kaa-san!" 

His mother looked up into her son's excited face and wondered when he had gotten so tall with the amazement of a mother reluctant to believe that her little boy was growing up. Feeling him tuck his arm around hers, she let herself be dragged back to the building as the moving van pulled up. 

For the first few minutes Hikaru stood back and watched as his mother waved and shouted instructions to the movers like a conductor would direct an orchestra. Then as they got on with their job, she tugged him up the stairs and insisted that he introduce himself to his neighbors. 

To this, he was vehemently opposed. "Kaa-san!! We don't have to do this now!! There's probably no one home anyway, it's Monday morning!! Kaa-san!" 

But his mother had been adamant. "Hikaru! You're going to be living by yourself. It's good to get to know the neighbors in case you or they ever need to help each other." 

"Kaa-san~!!" Hikaru was almost going to resort to digging his feet into the floor in protest when one of the doors they had walked past opened and an extremely familiar face peeked out. 

"Shindou...?" 

Hikaru started and almost lost his balance. "Touya...! I thought you were still in Osaka!" 

Akira was likewise shocked. "I just returned yesterday. What are you doing here?" 

"Moving in..." 

Hikaru's mother, on the other hand, was thrilled. "Touya-kun! What a pleasant surprise. Well..." 

As his mother's voice faded into the background, Hikaru continued to stare uncomprehendingly at the appearance of his friend and rival for a moment longer before a small grin spread over his face, prompting an answering smile from Akira. 

~~ 

It had turned out that Touya had moved in not a week before and then had been whisked off to an away match in Osaka, thus not giving him a chance to give anybody his new address or telephone number. Hikaru, in turn, had not wanted to spread the news of his moving out until he had in fact officially moved out, and so similarly had not given any of his friends *his* new address or telephone number. 

Hikaru was still smiling when he stepped out of the bathroom, roughly toweling his hair. Rummaging around his closet, he tugged on a random t-shirt and a pair of jeans before padding barefoot into the kitchen to find something to eat. 

After a few minutes of opening and shutting doors to his cupboards and his fridge, it was determined that there was, as he had feared, nothing to eat in his apartment apart from the peanut butter, jam and butter that he usually spread on his toast, and cans of soda and tea. Giving himself a mental whack on the head for forgetting to buy groceries again, Hikaru contemplated walking down to the convenience store to buy something before settling for the better option. 

Shoving his feet into his slippers, he let himself out of his apartment and shuffled over to knock on a door slightly down the hallway. 

When Akira opened the door in his t-shirt and pajama pants, an apron tossed over the front to indicate that he'd been cooking, to find a sheepish-looking Hikaru on his doorstep, he merely huffed in mild irritation. Nevertheless, he obligingly opened the door wider to let the other boy in. 

After all, it wasn't as if it was the first time it had happened. 

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**End Part 2... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** Yet another background-setting part ^^;; but one that was extremely necessary -- living arrangements!! *L* I hope I didn't give anyone the impression that they were living together already ^_^ Though from my point of view, they might as well be... But then I'm a fangirl *grins* More action in the next part, with the beginnings of the actual plot... finally... *L*


	3. Part 3: Girls, who needs 'em!

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** Umm... what can I say? First of all thanks to everybody for their reviews! Secondly... umm... enjoy?? ^^;;; *brain is dead*

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 3 - Girls, who needs 'em!**  


Stepping into Akira's apartment, Hikaru grinned unabashedly as he left his slippers at the door and followed the other pro barefoot into the kitchenette. 

"I should stop feeding you whenever you run out of food. At least it'll teach you a lesson," Akira muttered under his breath as he picked up his spoon to stir the curry simmering on the stove. 

Hikaru shrugged. "Then I'd just order take-out." 

To this, Akira rolled his eyes. "You're just lucky I usually make more than I can eat." 

Spying the empty curry packaging sticking partially out of the rubbish bin, Hikaru's eyes twinkled impishly. "And why is that, I wonder. Could it be because you make instant stuff too?? Mr. I-know-how-to-cook!" 

Akira turned and threw the laughing boy a dark glare. "I don't *have* to feed you, you know." 

Hikaru, still chuckling, waved off the harmless threat and proceeded to help by gathering utensils and dishing out rice; neatly stepping around Akira, who turned off the burner and carefully brought the pot of curry to the kitchen table. Both boys' easy movements in avoiding each other in the restricted space clearly indicative of the regularity with which Hikaru tended to run out of food. 

Settling down at the table, both muttered a quiet "itadakimasu" before digging in hungrily. 

"This is good Touya," Hikaru commented after a few mouthfuls. "Even if it is instant." 

Akira didn't feel the need to justify that with a comment, knowing that either way would have his rival laughing at him. 

Getting up to pour two glasses of water, Hikaru set the other one down in front of Akira as he resumed his seat. He then let out a laugh. "Did you see Waya's face today after lunch when Isumi-san got mobbed by all those girls when we got back?? I thought he was gonna full on blow up the way you could almost see steam coming out of his ears!" 

Akira nodded his thanks for the water and couldn't keep a slight smile from playing across his lips at the thought of the scene after lunch. "Isumi-san didn't look too comfortable either." 

"Yeah... it's too bad. Otherwise they would both come to more go conventions and we wouldn't be stuck playing as much shidougo as we are. Girls," Hikaru snorted, "who needs 'em." 

Blinking, Akira raised an eyebrow. "I'll be sure Fujisaki-san hears about that the next time we see her." 

Hikaru shook his head knowingly. "Nah... Akari's too busy with Mitani and the University Go club to have much time to hang out." He paused. "Not to mention Mitani would kill me if he thought I was butting in on his time with Akari." 

"Do you miss her?" 

"Who? Akari?" Hikaru started at Akira's genuinely curious question. "I s'pose... in a way... but not really..." He scrunched up his brow, at a loss as to how to express his feelings about his long-time friend. On one hand, she was his oldest friend and he was sorry that they weren't spending as much time together as they had in the past. On the other, he also knew that they were now practically living in different worlds and it would be impossible for them to develop the rapport that they had previously shared. He had that sort of rapport with other people now... and there was the fact that she and Mitani made a really cute couple. 

The bleached-blond boy shrugged off his thoughts. "It doesn't really matter anyway... we still talk and stuff. Just not as much as we used to." 

Akira digested this information slowly. Having never had a friend that had not been as dedicated to go as himself, and certainly never had a friend for as long as Shindou had had Fujisaki-san, it was hard to imagine what it would be like in Hikaru's shoes. He thought that it had to be harder than Shindou was making it sound, trying hard to imagine how he would feel if Ashiwara-san or Kurata-san, or maybe even Shindou, someday lost their passion for go... 

Lost in his thoughts, it took a while for outside noise to filter through. 

"..ya! Touya! Oi Touya!!" 

Blinking himself back to reality, Akira managed his most intelligent reply possible. "Huh?" 

Hikaru gave him an exasperated look. "The phone, stupid! The phone!" 

"Don't call me stupid!" was the reflex reply before Akira could even process what Hikaru was saying. By the time he realised that the annoying noise in the background was the ringing of his own phone, the machine had picked up. 

::This is Touya. I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message.:: *beep* 

"Are you okay?" Hikaru probed his friend with a worried look. 

"Yes... fi-" Akira cut himself off as the voice on the machine filtered through. 

::Ummm... Touya-san, this is Nakamura... Nakamura Chitose... I don't know if you remember me, we met a few weeks ago at Ogata-sensei's birthday celebration. Umm... Ogata-sensei said that I should give you a call about... go lessons... I'd really like it if you could call me back. My phone number is...:: 

As the recorded voice rattled off a phone number and subsequently hung up, Hikaru raised an inquiring eyebrow at his companion. 

Akira sighed and rose to clear off the remains of their dinner. As he began filling the sink to do the dishes, he heard Hikaru come up next to him and grab a dishcloth, ready to start drying. It was a ritual that had started the first time Hikaru had shown up on his doorstep with a plea for dinner, and Akira had to admit that it was nice having someone to share chores with. 

"So..." Hikaru began as he accepted a plate from Akira. "When does someone asking Touya 6-dan for go lessons sound that nervous on the phone?" 

"When it's Ogata-sensei who suggested that they call," Akira replied calmly, hoping that Hikaru would drop the subject. 

Alas, to Akira's misfortune, Hikaru was impervious to the art form known as subtlety. "Ogata-sensei's trying to set you up?!" he asked in an incredulous voice, eyes wide and the humour in them apparent. 

"Shindou..." Akira warned in a low voice. 

Hikaru burst out laughing as he gently accepted another plate that had been almost violently thrust at him. "That's a bit hypocritical don't you think? Ogata-sensei's what...? Gotta be around mid thirties right? He doesn't even have a steady relationship himself and he's trying to set you up??" 

"The Nakamura's are old friends of his." Akira finished up washing and set about putting the dried plates and utensils back into their cupboards and drawers. "To his credit, it probably wasn't his idea." 

"So what're you gonna do?" Hikaru asked, a wicked smile playing across his face. 

Akira sighed again, valiantly preventing a pained look from being displayed on his face. It would hardly do to deny Ogata-sensei this one favor after everything that the older man had done for him. "Call and arrange a time I suppose." 

Hikaru squinted at him, as if trying to see him properly, still grinning. "I can't picture you with a girlfriend. She'd have to be a goddess or something to be able to put up with you." 

Looking offended, Akira retorted, "What about you Shindou?! It isn't as if your situation's any better than mine!" 

"Yeah, but I've got the better personality," Hikaru stated matter-of-factly, eyes twinkling. He even raised a finger to emphasise his point. "Besides, I've got my work cut out for me just chasing you. The way you're going, it's a full time job as it is. I don't have the time to waste on girls." 

With an annoyed huff, Akira turned his back on his infuriating friend and walked out of the kitchenette towards the phone. 

Hikaru followed the long-haired boy out with a light smirk. Detouring to Akira's fish tank next to the couch, he proceeded to tune out the phone conversation behind him by sticking his fingers into the water to watch the fish come up and nip at his fingertips. The fish had apparently been a house-warming present from Ogata-sensei; and with a few well-chosen pot plants, they gave Akira's apartment a much more lived-in look than Hikaru's own minimalistic and messy décor. 

Hearing the phone being hung up behind him, Hikaru lifted his head from watching the fish. "Oi Touya! Your fish are hungry!" 

"Shindou, how many times have I told you not to stick your fingers in there?!" 

Flicking the water from his fingers, unruffled, Hikaru stepped aside to make way for Akira as the other pro approached the fish tank with the feed. "Oh by the way, you need me to feed the fish while you're in Korea?" 

Akira blinks as he puts the feed away after dropping a few pellets into the water. "That's right, I almost forgot." Retrieving an extra key to his apartment out of a kitchen drawer, he handed it over to Hikaru. "Don't forget to water the plants as well." 

Hikaru took the key with a jaunty salute. "Yes sir!" Stringing the key onto his own key ring, he said, "Two weeks right? Not long now..." The end of the sentence was punctuated by a tired yawn that Hikaru couldn't suppress. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised that it was almost eleven. "Guess I'd better get some sleep... still got study group tomorrow." 

Akira nods. "Me too." 

With a wave over his shoulder, the slightly shorter boy made his way out of Akira's apartment. "Thanks for dinner Touya!" And with practised ease, shut the door just as Akira's routine reprimand of "Remember to buy your own groceries next time!" began filtering through to his ears. 

Shuffling back to his own apartment, Shindou Hikaru collapsed onto his futon and was asleep as soon as his head touched his pillow, a contented smile never leaving his face. 

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**End Part 3... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** The people who would like to take a frying pan to the backs of Hikaru and Akira's heads to make them realize what's in front of them, please raise your hand *raises both hands* I swear these two are taking on a life of their own and forcing me to move this fic along at a snail pace... ^^;; Akira and Hikaru, taking the term "adorably clueless" to new heights... Hopefully I'm not boring anybody *L* But for a change of pace, look for SumiWaya action in the next part ^_^


	4. Part 4: A Push in the Right Direction

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** SumiWaya fans rejoice! *grins* *holds up SumiWaya flag and waves* This part probably contains the majority of SumiWaya fluff to make an appearance in this fic. I'll return to the clueless Akira and Hikaru in the next part *LOL* This part should probably have been split into two, given its length, but I didn't really want to break it up. Beware time jumps as about half of this fic (in italics) is set a year ago in China, and the other half about the same time as the last part ^_^ Again, thanks to all the reviewers! You've made writing this fic just that much more enjoyable.

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 4 - A Push in the Right Direction**  


_One year earlier - China _

They stood together at Beijing Airport, luggage at their feet, trying to look through the frantically hurrying masses of people. 

"Do you see them Isumi-san?" 

"No... not yet. They might just be running late or something." Isumi looked down at the piece of paper he held in his hand and then glanced at his surroundings. "I'm pretty sure this is where we're supposed to meet them." 

Waya let out a long breath and looked about at the foreign signs curiously. There were some he recognised and others that he didn't. While he had tried hard to study Chinese in preparation for this trip, he had to admit that studying had never been his strong point. With the exception of go. 

Then a loud yell broke through his thoughts. 

"ISUMI-SAN~~~~~~!!!!!!" 

Startled, Waya could only stare as a brown and red shape blurred across his field of vision to jump and firmly attach itself to Isumi's back, causing the older pro to stumble and almost lose his balance. When the blur resolved itself into a grinning brown-haired boy in a red t-shirt that could have been his younger twin, Waya gaped at the answering grin on Isumi's face. 

"Le Ping!! You've grown taller!!" Isumi observed as he laughed. Then he blinked in surprise. "And you speak Japanese!" 

Le Ping only beamed in response and held on tighter. "Uh-huh!! Yang Hai-san taught me so I could talk to you the next time you came!" He aimed a glare over his shoulder. "He wouldn't let me come to Japan to see you!" 

"There was no way I was going to let you stow away in my luggage!" As if on cue, a tall Chinese man emerged from the crowd and raised a hand in greeting. "Isumi-kun. Long time no see." 

Isumi smiled at the sight of his old friend. "Yang Hai-san. It's good to see you." 

Sensing that he was being ignored, Le Ping began bouncing in place while still attached to Isumi's back. "A game Isumi-san!! Play a game with me! Now now now now now!!" 

Laughing at the familiar demands, Isumi attempted placating the younger boy on his back with words of 'later', all the while trying to keep his balance and prevent himself from being unintentionally strangled by the pair of arms around his neck and shoulders. 

"That brat," Yang Hai commented as he strolled to a stop next to Waya. "He hasn't matured at all since the last time Isumi-kun was here." He looked down at the shorter Japanese pro at his side. "Waya-kun, wasn't it?" 

Shaking himself from the scene in front of him, Waya looked up and made a hasty bow. "Uhh... Yes! Thank you very much for coming to pick us up." 

Yang Hai waved him off. "No need for formalities. We'll be getting to know each other much better in the next three weeks. On and off the go board." 

Waya straightened from his bow with a determined look. "I look forward to it." 

Giving him an appraising look, Yang Hai grinned. "I still can't get over how much you two look alike." Glancing over to where Isumi and Le Ping were still getting reacquainted, Yang Hai shook his head and bent down to pick up Isumi's luggage. "Come on, we better get to the hotel to get you settled in. We can introduce you to Le Ping later since it looks like there's no pulling him off Isumi-kun anytime in the near future." To the two at the side, he yelled, "Hey! Let's get going!!" 

"Uhhh... Yeah..." Waya picked up his own luggage and slowly followed Yang Hai to the exit; every once in a while glancing over his shoulder at Isumi, who had apparently been conned into giving Le Ping a piggy-back ride. At the same time, he wondered why his stomach felt like it was twisted in knots. 

~~ 

Finally letting themselves into their apartment after dinner at a local sushi restaurant, Waya promptly toed his shoes off and dropped onto their couch like a marionette that had had its strings cut off. "Long day... long long day..." 

Smiling warmly, Isumi quietly took off his jacket and tie before lowering himself gently to one end of the couch. "Yeah..." 

Waya, who had long since lost the tie, the jacket and untucked his shirt, quickly took advantage of the opportunity presented him -- as any go pro should -- and fell sideways so that his head was conveniently cushioned in Isumi's lap. He grinned up at the older pro from his vantage point. "Much better." 

Isumi simply shook his head in feigned exasperation, gently running his left hand through the strands of Waya's hair. It was a favorite pastime of Isumi's, given that despite its spiky appearance, Waya's hair was surprisingly soft and smooth to the touch. It was one of the many contradictory things about his long-time friend that he loved; like how the loud and energetic Waya would inadvertently turn into a quietly purring kitten when his hair was being messed with. 

Unable to resist, Isumi bent to press a quick kiss to the younger man's nose. Humor sparked in his blue eyes as it elicited a squawk of surprise from the unsuspecting Waya. "Sorry... couldn't resist." 

Waya wrinkled his nose in mock affrontation. "If you're going to kiss me, then at least kiss me properly." 

Never let it be said that Isumi Shinichirou didn't know how to follow instructions. "As you wish..." 

~~ 

_One year earlier - China _

Yang Hai casually ambled into the cafeteria at the Chinese Go Institute for lunch. Dishing himself a helping of almost everything available at the buffet, he was going to sit down at his usual table when he spotted a now-familiar brown tuft of hair at an almost-empty table. Raising his eyebrow at the slumped shoulders of the young man attached to the spiky brown hair, he abruptly changed course and pulled out a chair opposite the Japanese pro. 

"Hey. Mind if I join you for lunch?" 

Looking up quickly, Waya shook his head. "Please. Be my guest." He then went back to his thoughts, poking at his barely touched food. 

Yang Hai considered the young pro in front of him in between bites of his food. Waya and Isumi had only been here for five days, but while Isumi had fitted in as if he had always belonged, Waya had yet to lose the melancholy look that had taken over his face. It wasn't the Waya that Yang Hai had heard described over and over again in the two months that he had shared a room with Isumi. And from the few probing looks that he had caught Isumi sending his friend over the course of the last few days, he gathered that Isumi was just as puzzled by this attitude as he was. 

However unlike Isumi, Yang Hai had his own ideas of what was causing the problem. "So, where's Isumi-kun? I would have thought that he'd be having lunch with you." 

He watched Waya force a smile. "He got dragged off by Le Ping for another game. Since I was hungry, he said that I should eat first and that he'd grab something later." 

"I see..." Observing his companion poke at his food some more, Yang Hai decided to let the bombshell drop. "You like him." 

Waya straightened up with the speed of a bullet and promptly began shaking his head with wide eyes. "No no... that's not - " 

Yang Hai cut him off mid-protest. "Don't deny it. It's extremely obvious to someone standing in my shoes. You like him. And I'm guessing that there's no one competing with you for his attention in Japan like there is here with Le Ping." 

Taking the slump of Waya's shoulders as an affirmative, Yang Hai smiled knowingly. "I'll let you in on a little secret Waya-kun." He waited until Waya looked at him before continuing. "In the two months that Isumi-kun roomed with me, apart from go, you were all he talked about." 

Waya's eyes widened. 

Yang Hai grinned. "Every time I asked him something about Japan, he'd give me this long spiel about how you and he used to hang together and do stuff. Occasionally he'd mention his parents, or the Shindou kid or maybe a few of his insei friends. But it was always 'Waya this' and 'Waya that'. I got sick of hearing it after a while." 

Quickly gathering up the remains of his lunch, Yang Hai stood and walked off, pausing only to pat Waya on the shoulder reassuringly. "Think about it." 

~~ 

Long moments later, they returned to silence, quietly basking in each other's warmth to de-stress after a tiring day. 

This time it was Waya that broke the silence, plucking at his friend's shirt. "I'm surprised your clothes are still intact after the way those girls were almost pawing at you." 

Letting out a quiet laugh, Isumi smiled down into deep brown eyes, deceptively innocent. "That's okay. I'm only attracted to Waya-lookalikes." 

It took a moment for the implications to sink in. Then Waya yelled, "Isumi-san!!" 

This prompted more laughter from Isumi and subsequently more kisses to placate a riled Waya until both once again lapsed into comfortable silence. 

Looking up into Isumi's contented face, Waya let his eyes wander over the flawless cheeks, the elegant nose and the way the older pro's bangs gently brushed closed eye-lids, hiding the deep blue eyes from sight. Catching the full lips twitch up in a small smile, he tugged at Isumi's right hand. "What are you thinking about?" 

"Nothing much," Isumi replied, smile widening. "Just wondering how Yang Hai-san and Le Ping must be doing..." 

Waya scowled half-heartedly at the mention of the younger boy. "That brat... probably hasn't grown up from the last time we saw him. Still pulling up his shirt at every opportunity..." 

Isumi chuckled. "I still can't believe he demanded that you show him your belly-button in the taxi. I can still see Yang Hai-san's appalled face." 

Glaring, Waya retaliated by repeatedly poking his index finger into Isumi's midriff causing the older pro to squirm in the middle of his laughter. "I didn't see you helping much!" 

Catching Waya's hands in his own to prevent any more poking, Isumi let his laughter die down to a smile. Rubbing one finger over Waya's forehead to smooth out the frown, he said quietly, "Touya knows about us." 

"Yeah... I think Shindou does as well..." 

"Are you surprised?" 

Waya started. "Hmm? Surprised about what?" 

"That they found out. Because I'm not..." Isumi added, a contemplative look settling over his face. 

Waya shrugged. "Touya's always struck me as the perceptive type. Even if he can be incredibly callous sometimes." Here, Waya rolled his eyes. He and Touya may have mended their fences, but some issues would clearly still need more time before they could be completely laid to rest. "But Shindou? I've never pegged Shindou to be a particularly observant person. In those matters anyway." 

Isumi smiled. "Maybe that's why..." 

"Why what?" 

"You can't tell me you've never wondered exactly what the relationship between Shindou and Touya is." Isumi looked enquiringly down into Waya's face. "Don't you think they take the 'rivalry' just a bit far? They've been chasing and fighting with each other ever since we met Shindou when he was thirteen." 

Waya thought for a minute and then settled for playing devil's advocate. "But they're friends now. Maybe they're just really good friends." 

"Like we were?" Isumi grinned at Waya's startled expression. "I'm just saying that for them to still be as close and showing no romantic interest in anyone else, I wonder if they just need a little push to see what's in front of them." 

"Like Yang Hai-san did for us?" Waya's smile was impish. 

Isumi's eyes glinted playfully in reply. "Something like that..." 

~~ 

_One year earlier - China _

Two days later, Yang Hai poked his head into the training room after dinner to see it empty except for the crowd gathered around Le Ping and Isumi playing yet another ten second speed go game. Scanning the crowd for an older Le Ping lookalike and not finding one, the older man grimaced slightly. 

Not a few minutes later, the crowd cheered and Le Ping's demanding voice rose above the others. 

"One more game!! One more game Isumi-san!!" 

"That's enough Le Ping!" Yang Hai took the opportunity to break up the party. "You've got a game tomorrow, hadn't you better get to bed?" 

Le Ping scowled determinedly. "One more game!!" 

"Off! To! Bed!!" Yang Hai scowled back before clapping a hand gently onto Isumi's shoulder. "Isumi-kun, come play a game with me in my room." He grinned. "Just like the old times." 

Isumi nodded agreeably. "Of course." 

The two walked off out of the training room and down the hall. 

"So where's Waya-kun?" Yang Hai asked. 

Troubled, Isumi answered, "He said that he wasn't feeling well so he left early." 

"You didn't go with him?" 

"Well... I would have. But Le Ping wouldn't let me go until I'd played one more game," Isumi laughed uneasily. "You know how he is..." 

"Yeah..." Yang Hai muttered then took a right turn. 

Isumi blinked and swung his head from his friend to the hallway in the opposite direction. "Uhh... Yang Hai-san. Isn't your room that way?" 

"Forget about the game today Isumi-kun. Just let me say something." 

Even more surprised, Isumi could only manage an "Umm... Yes?" 

"Remember the last time you were here, before your match with Le Ping? I told you that you were weak at controlling your mind and that you shouldn't be controlled by the emotions that affect you." 

Isumi smiled gratefully. "I've never forgotten. I think those were the words that gave me the confidence in my go to pass the pro exams." 

Yang Hai smiled back. "I'm glad that you think that. But I forgot to mention one very important thing. The advice only applies to go." 

"Yang Hai-san..." 

"In everything else in life, it's important to be guided by your emotions. Especially in matters like friendship." With a grin and a wave over his shoulder, Yang Hai strolled back the way they had come. "It's late Isumi-kun, you'd better get back to the hotel. You owe me a game tomorrow." 

Blinking again in incomprehension, Isumi could only run those words over and over again in his head as he walked back to the hotel room he was sharing with Waya, trying to figure out what Yang Hai-san had meant. But when he opened the door and found Waya lying on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling, all thoughts flew out of his head. 

"Waya...?" He settled himself lightly on the edge of Waya's bed. "Waya? Are you feeling better? What's wrong?" 

"Nothing Isumi-san... I'm fine." With that, Waya turned his head slightly so that Isumi couldn't see his face. 

Isumi tried to ignore the uncomfortable twitch in his chest at his friend's actions. "Are you sure?" Waya had been feeling off ever since they'd arrived in China, and though Isumi desperately wanted to know what was going on, he wasn't willing to force Waya to tell him. 

Finally, Waya let out a long breath, and pulled himself into a sitting position on his bed. Forcing a cheerful voice, he asked, "How was your game with Le Ping? Did you kick his ass?" 

"It was pretty good..." Isumi began uncertainly but then stopped when Waya once again started looking dejectedly into his lap. Unable to curb the worry flaring in him, Isumi reached out a hand and tipped Waya's face up to meet his eyes. "Waya. Tell me what's wrong." 

Usually sparkling brown eyes were unnaturally flat as Waya answered, "It's fine Isumi-san, nothing's wrong." 

When Isumi frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, Waya asked tentatively, "We're friends right Isumi-san?" 

Isumi nodded reassuringly. "Of course." 

"Good friends?" 

At this, Isumi broke into a small smile. "The best kind." He watched curiously as something flickered over Waya's face before a determined look replaced it; a look that he had seen often from across the goban and recognised as when Waya had determined his next hand. Then he was taken by surprise as for an instant, there was the sensation of soft lips meeting his own before it abruptly disappeared. 

Taking a moment to reorient himself as he savored the feeling, Isumi glanced over at his friend to find Waya adamantly looking anywhere but at him. It was then that Yang Hai-san's words came back to him and finally made some sense. There was no need for controlled emotions here, and definitely not where Waya-the-friend was involved. Waya-the-pro would be a different matter entirely, but that was neither here nor there. 

Feeling the twitch in his chest disappear as he finally made his decision, Isumi allowed a grin to spread over his face. Reaching over for Waya, he calmly leaned in and covered the younger pro's lips with his own. 

The lips under his were stiff for a split second until they softened as he dragged Waya closer. A brief moment later, as he pulled away, he was gratified to see the sparkle return to those deep brown eyes that he had just realised he loved. 

~~ 

"So what do you think we should do?" Waya asked curiously. 

Isumi shrugged while stroking Waya's cheek with a light smirk. "I don't know. Find a chibi-Shindou somewhere, attach it to Touya and hope that Shindou gets jealous?" 

"ISUMI-SAN!!" Not about to take that lying down, Waya leapt up and got his hands on one of the couch cushions. Using it, he proceeded to pummel the older pro until they collapsed into each other's arms in blissful laughter. 

Holding Waya tightly to his chest, Isumi let the last of his chuckles die down. "I'm sure we'll think of something..." 

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**End Part 4... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** *grins* I fully admit to being a SumiWaya fangirl ^______^ But the majority of this part can probably be blamed on Sutsume-chan, who wouldn't stop nagging for SumiWaya!In!China! until I had to agree to write it *LOL* (*pokes* Hope you're happy~! =P) Hopefully the time thing didn't confuse anybody too much since I couldn't find a better place to put it ^^;;; Please let me know what you thought.


	5. Part 5: If You Don't Want To

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** Returning you to the scheduled clueless Hikaru and Akira ^_^ As always, my gratitude to the reviewers!

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 5 - If You Don't Want To...**

"Kaa-san! I'm home!" Hikaru called into the house as he let himself in. Dropping his backpack onto the floor, he bent over to untie his shoes, hung up his winter coat, and then padded softly towards the kitchen in his socks. "Kaa-san?" 

Hikaru's mother looked up from where she was chopping vegetables at the counter when her son walked into her field of vision. "Oh! Hikaru!" She reached over to turn off the radio that had been playing softly in the background and motioned Hikaru to a kitchen chair. "I thought you weren't going to get home until later." 

Pulling off his suit jacket, the nineteen year old professional go player plopped down onto the kitchen chair with the same amount of grace as he had possessed in sixth grade; that is to say: none. "Yeah, game finished early so I thought I'd come earlier instead of right before dinner." 

"No plans with Touya-kun today?" It was an established routine that the two young men would replay each other's games at the Touya Go Salon after they were finished with their morning matches. It was the reason why Hikaru usually never made it to his parents' house before late afternoon. 

"Nope. Touya didn't have a game today so he's off doing a tutoring session at some girl's house." 

Surprised, Hikaru's mother raised her eyes to her son. This was the first time she had ever heard Hikaru refer to someone being tutored by a specific gender. Usually it was just 'someone' that he or Touya-kun tutored, not specifically 'some girl'. "Is she a friend of his?" she probed delicately. 

Hikaru snorted mirthfully, shaking his head as he rose from his chair and walked towards his mother at the counter. "Uh-uh. But she is friends with Ogata-sensei. I think he's trying to set them up." 

"Well," his mother replied, returning to what she was doing. "It's good for you two to get out a little and get to know a few girls. It's not healthy for two nineteen year old boys to not have social lives." 

"Kaa-san~~" Hikaru protested. "We have social lives! We go to go conventions and get together with Isumi-san and Waya and everybody all the time!" 

She gave him a look. "I meant things that don't have to do with go." 

Hikaru made a face. "Girls take up too much time. I mean, look at Mitani! Every time I see him, he's always got Akari on the brain. We don't have the time for that with our schedules and everything." With that, he swiped a cucumber stick from his mother's platter and grinned angelically when she frowned at him. 

Behind the frown however, Hikaru's mother was examining her son curiously. She understood that Hikaru's friendship with Akira was a close one, forged by the mutual understanding of each other not only as boys, but also as successful go pros. Yet, it never ceased to amaze her how effectively each had inserted himself into the other's life; so much so that sometimes she felt as if she had two sons instead of one, especially since Akira's parents were so often overseas. 

Sometimes though, she wondered if maybe they had inserted themselves deeper into each other's lives than could be termed proper for mere best friends. While it could be somewhat explained by an almost rabid devotion to go, she couldn't help but notice that neither Hikaru nor Akira showed any genuine interest in members of the opposite sex. But then it was best not to speculate about that. As a mother that had long since fully accepted, despite being puzzled by, her son's choices about his life ever since he was twelve, she certainly wasn't about to dictate his life to him now. 

Focusing her thoughts, she decided to turn to another topic of conversation. One that was ultimately more pressing given Hikaru's glaring deficiency in basic culinary skills. Looking her son up and down critically, she asked, "Are you sure you're eating right?" 

Swiping another cucumber slice, Hikaru rolled his eyes with a slight smile. "Yes I am eating right!! You worry too much Kaa-san!" 

"I'm your mother! I have a right to worry!" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're eating instant stuff again, aren't you?" 

"Kaa-san~!!" Hikaru complained. "Yes, I eat instant stuff sometimes. But even Touya eats it sometimes! And he knows how to cook!!" 

Hikaru's mother blinked. "You had dinner at Touya-kun's again?" It also didn't escape her notice that Akira tended to pop up in Hikaru's speech with remarkable frequency. 

"Uh-huh. Last night. When I ran out of - " he caught himself just before he mentioned anything resembling the word 'instant', " - groceries." He attempted another innocent grin. "We had curry." 

But Hikaru's mother knew her son too well to be fooled, frowning at him in mild disapproval. Inwardly, she made a mental note to send some food over to Hikaru and Akira's apartments in the future; it was the least she could do given how often Akira seemed to accommodate Hikaru at his dinner table. 

~~ 

Later that night, Touya Akira strolled up and down the aisles of the local convenience store, basket in hand. Into it went the necessary items such as milk, bread, tea and all the other things he had discovered he was running low on. Then he happened upon the instant foods aisle. 

Dumping a few more packets of instant curry and soup into his basket, he was surprised when he caught himself proceeding to inspect the instant ramen packages. He certainly didn't have a liking for ramen, instant or otherwise, to compare with the one Shindou had. Conversely, if he had any sort of partiality for instant food to speak of, it would have to be for instant curry. Despite this, he still found himself reaching for a few ramen packs and letting them drop into his basket. 

Rolling his eyes in exasperation at himself, he fished out his wallet as he approached the register. It stood to reason that he should have a few packs on hand just in case Shindou ever showed up for dinner when he hadn't prepared enough for two. But as the assistant bagged his purchases and took his money, he idly wondered when feeding his rival had become a habit. 

Carrying his groceries home, he had just let himself into his apartment when the phone began ringing. Toeing off his shoes quickly and leaving his bags at the door, Akira strode quickly to the phone. If Shindou was calling from his parents' house to say he'd forgotten to do something yet again, Akira certainly didn't want another earful about how he was an idiot for not hearing the phone ring. "This is Touya." 

"Umm... Touya-san, this is Nakamura." 

Letting out a held breath, Akira lowered himself to perch on the arm of his couch -- an action that would have won him his mother's disapproving frown had he still been living at home. "Nakamura-san, I didn't expect you to call again so soon." He had just finished her go tutoring session barely a few hours ago. "What can I do for you?" 

"I just... wanted to say thanks for coming over today on such short notice." 

"That's fine Nakamura-san, it was my pleasure." 

"Ummm... I was also wondering if maybe I could treat you to dinner sometime next week to say thanks? It'd be the least I could do since you didn't take the fee my parents offered for the lesson today." 

Akira ran a hand awkwardly through his hair. To be quite honest, he hadn't felt right taking the fee when the girl had spent more time staring at him than at the go board. It was obvious from the start that the girl only possessed a passing interest in go, and he would have been tempted to leave had it not been for the favors he owed Ogata-sensei. To her credit, she had improved by the end of the lesson. Nevertheless, Akira had still found it disconcerting to tutor when he would look up to see her eyes centered on him rather than the stone he was gesturing at. "That's really quite all right Nakamura-san, you don't have to go to the trouble - " 

"It's really no trouble at all!" she cut him off. "Perhaps we could go to that new restaurant near the park? Do you know the place Touya-san?" 

"Yes, I know the place." He had pointed the restaurant out to Shindou a few times while they had walked past only to be dragged off in favor of Shindou's favorite ramen stand. "But really, Nakamura-san, it's really not necessary - " 

"I insist! Please Touya-san, it would really make me feel better about taking up your time today." 

"I suppose..." Akira began uncertainly. It was habit left over from his younger days that he really needed to dispense with, but it had always been easier for him to concede to insistent females about things not related to go rather than fight it out using his limited arsenal of social skills. He also didn't have the heart to deny the girl when she sounded so upset about it. 

"Thank you Touya-san! Does Wednesday night around seven sound all right to you?" 

"That's fine Nakamura-san," Akira conceded again with sigh. 

"Then it's settled! Thank you again Touya-san!" 

Hanging up the phone as the conversation ended, Akira raised a hand to rub at his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. Shoulders slightly slumped, he went to bring the groceries in from the hallway. As he began putting them away into their respective cupboards, he wondered what Shindou would have to say about his 'date'. 

~~ 

Tuesday night, two young pros faced each other from opposite sides of a goban in Shindou Hikaru's apartment, embroiled in a tough battle. The heavy silence in the room interrupted only by the rustle of stones in the go-ke and the 'pa-chi' of stones being placed on the board. 

As yose drew to a close and it appeared that the outcome would be in Hikaru's favor by a moku and a half, Akira mentally prepared himself for the shouting match that would follow. After four years of fighting with Shindou over the go board, it had almost become a tradition for the discussion to turn into a battle of who was the more stubborn; even if, in the process, it also turned into a battle of who was more immature. 

He didn't know if Shindou realised it, but for Akira, who had grown up in much more reserved surroundings, these moments of immaturity were almost treasured for their intensity. It was a brief but welcome respite from the control that dominated the majority of Touya Akira's life. 

But this time, as Akira raised his head to meet Hikaru's eyes, all he saw in the green depths were concern and genuine annoyance. 

"What's wrong with you?" 

Akira blinked. "Excuse me?" 

"I said, what's wrong with you?" 

"Nothing..." Akira replied, confused by his rival's irritated response. "What makes you think something's wrong?" 

Hikaru scowled. "Touya, I know you like the back of my hand. And this!" He gestured agitatedly at the black and white stones. "Is not your usual go." He stared almost accusingly into Touya's surprised blue eyes. Then his own green ones softened slightly, as did his voice. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine," Akira replied absently as he examined the board. No, it had not been his best game. To be honest, there were one or two stones that, though the placement wasn't bad, could have been put to better use. While any other player wouldn't have picked up on this, it was different for Shindou. Given the sheer number of games the two had played against each other, Shindou was almost as familiar with Akira's style of play as his own, and vice versa. It was what allowed the two to strive to best the other, knowing that the other would be able to recognise and exploit any sign of weakness in their game. 

Hikaru probed his friend with a few more searching looks before sighing loudly and flopping until he was sprawled on the floor of his apartment, staring up at the ceiling. "You know, if you really don't want to go tomorrow, you should just tell her." 

Startled out of his thoughts, Akira fixed his eyes onto the bleached-blond boy on the floor. "What?" 

"Tomorrow. You know, that dinner thing with the Nakamura girl." Hikaru turned his head until his eyes met Touya's. "If you don't want to go, you should tell her." 

"I never said I didn't want to go!" Akira said indignantly. 

"Yeah, but you never said you wanted to go either," Hikaru pointed out. Rolling to his feet, he made his way to his fridge, pulling out a soda for himself and a can of Akira's favorite Oolong tea. "From what you told me, you weren't exactly eager to say yes when she first offered." 

Passing the tea to the long-haired boy, Hikaru leaned backwards on the windowsill next to the go board as he looked down at his rival. Taking a drink from his soda, he asked seriously, "Do you? Want to go, that is." 

Akira stared down at the can in his own hands before sighing and shaking his head. "Not really..." Taking a sip of the tea, he got up and walked towards the window until he could rest his elbows on the windowsill next to Hikaru's, staring out into the dark sky. 

Hikaru rolled his eyes in exasperation, shaking off the serious expression that had presided over his features. "Then just tell her that you don't want to go and get it over with!" At Akira's look, he shrugged his shoulders. "Look, it's like playing go against someone who just doesn't want to play. Neither of you are going to get anything out of it and neither of you are going to have any fun. Might as well just avoid the whole thing altogether." 

Glancing at Hikaru out of the corner of his eye, Akira felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. "Since when did you become an expert?" 

Hikaru grinned at the twitch, good humor restored. "Since I've been talking to Mitani and he started dating Akari." 

Hiding a smile behind the action of taking another drink from his can, Akira turned his head to look at the clock. Blinking at the time to make sure he'd seen right, he turned back to the window with dark eyes. "It's too late to do anything about it now... it's eleven already." 

Taking his own confirming look at the clock, Hikaru let a little more of his weight slump onto his elbows. "Yeah... I guess..." 

The two stood together comfortably, lost in their own thoughts for a while, occasionally sipping from their drinks. At last, Akira pushed himself away from the window. "I'd better head to bed. There's that game tomorrow morning and then the interview." 

"You going straight from the interview to dinner?" Hikaru asked, eyes tracking his rival as Akira dropped his can into the rubbish bin and made his way to the front door. 

"Yes." 

"Don't forget your umbrella. It's meant to rain tomorrow night." 

"I won't." 

As the front door closed after Touya, Hikaru drained his soda in one large gulp and turned to stare out the window. Staring out into the darkness as his rival had moments before, he tapped the empty can gently against the windowsill, a vaguely unsettled shadow lurking in his eyes. 

* * *

**End Part 5... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** Not much fluff-fluff to speak of in this chapter ^_^ merely some comfortable-fluff to use as a spring-board into the next bit of the plot *L* Coming up: a minor dose of SumiWaya cuteness, and the morning after the big 'date'. 


	6. Part 6: Missing

* * *

**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** *sighs* It's that time of year again when end of semester exams begin to take over my life. As a result, this fic has to be shoved onto the back burner for about a week and a half while I knuckle down to studying *cringe* Apologies and thanks beforehand to all the readers and especially the reviewers whom have supported this fic.

Special thanks go out to Ju for pointing out my grammar mistakes! Part 5 has been reloaded with your corrections ^_^

* * *

**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

* * *

**Part 6 - Missing**

Thursday morning found Shindou Hikaru poking through his closet, tossing to the floor all the articles of clothing that were in need of a run through the washer and drier before they could once again be fit for human attire. Laundry was a chore that the young go pro took no pleasure in. However, it was a chore made necessary by the regularity with which he discovered a lack of clean shirts to wear. Hence with a tutoring session coming up tomorrow morning and no clean shirt in sight, Hikaru was left with no choice but to do the dreaded laundry today. 

After bundling the pile of dirty clothing into a laundry hamper, a quick check of the clock reminded him that he would be late if he didn't leave soon. Having arranged to meet Isumi-san and Waya at eleven to visit a few of the old go salons from their insei days, laundry would, to his *profound* regret, have to wait until he got back. Grinning, Hikaru snagged his backpack and keys on his way out, pulling the door shut after himself and casting the habitual look at the doorway across the hall. 

The note he had stuck to Touya's doorknob last night was gone, indicating that the other boy had obviously seen it when he'd gotten home from his 'date'. And since there was no note stuck to his own doorknob to point to the contrary, Touya had therefore accepted the invitation to go with all of them to the go salons today. 

Almost bouncing in anticipation, Hikaru knocked impatiently on Akira's door. When the door failed to open after three successive attempts, Hikaru shrugged off the slight frown on his face and proceeded to the elevator. Touya must've just gone on ahead or something. 

~~ 

"They're late," Waya stated with a mildly annoyed expression. It had already been twenty minutes and he was tired of waiting for Shindou and Touya. Especially when there was no dry spot on which to park his behind; the puddles from last night's downpour had yet to evaporate from the sidewalks and benches. 

Isumi simply smiled and reached out to straighten Waya's scarf around the brown-haired pro's neck. "They'll be here. Or at least Shindou will. But he seemed pretty certain yesterday that Touya would come too." At last satisfied with the way the scarf was arranged to keep the warmth around Waya's neck, Isumi took the opportunity to gently ruffle his lover's hair. 

He grinned when the action earned him a veiled glare from Waya, only to burst into quiet laughter as he watched the younger pro try to put the rebellious strands of his hair into some semblance of order. 

"Isumi-san!!" Waya was just preparing to retaliate when a shout from behind him caught his attention. 

"Waya!! Isumi-san!!" With that, Shindou came running up. "Sorry I'm late, I missed the train." 

"That's okay Shindou," Isumi replied easily. "Waya and I were just amusing ourselves." Deftly, he sidestepped a discreet swipe of Waya's hand, the angelic smile never leaving his face. 

In answer, Hikaru merely nodded, hiding a bright grin at his friends' antics. Looking around for the last member of the quartet to share the joke, a puzzled look flitted across his face. "Touya's not here?" 

Waya turned to fix his bleached-blonde friend with a look. "I thought he was coming with you. Didn't you see him this morning?" 

"I knocked on his door but there was no one home so I thought he must have left already." 

"You did remember to tell him, didn't you Shindou?" Isumi asked gently. 

"Of course," Hikaru answered absently as he scanned the crowd for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of longish, midnight-dark hair. "I stuck a note on his doorknob when I got home last night like I always do. When I left this morning the note was gone so if he wasn't coming, he would've stuck a note on my door to say so." 

At this, Isumi and Waya exchanged perplexed looks. 

"Shindou, you could have just knocked on the door to tell him," Waya finally pointed out. "Why did you have to stick a note on his doorknob?" 

"Huh?" Hikaru wrenched his attention from the crowd and slowly processed the question. Then realisation dawned in green eyes. "Oh! I didn't tell you guys yesterday. Touya went to dinner with some girl last night so he wasn't home when I got back. We always leave each other notes on the door if it's something important and the other person's not home or something." 

By this time, Waya's eyebrows had already lifted well into his bangs. "Touya went on a date?" he asked incredulously. "With a girl?" 

"Who?" Isumi was equally surprised. 

Hikaru blinked, taken aback at the barrage of questions. "Umm, yeah. Some girl he tutored last weekend. She apparently wanted to thank him or something stupid like that." He rolled his eyes. 

"And Touya agreed?!" Waya had never thought he'd live to see the day when Touya Akira willingly agreed to do something completely unrelated to go, and with a female no less. 

Hikaru shrugged. "I told him Tuesday night he didn't have to go if he didn't want to but he said it was too late to get things changed." 

"Maybe you should call him to see where he is," Isumi suggested, since it was clear that Waya was too shocked to be able to function coherently. 

"Yeah..." Still glancing around to make sure Touya wasn't about to suddenly appear and give him a heart attack again, Hikaru fished his cellphone out from his bag. 

Isumi calmly stood and gauged Shindou's expression as the bleached-blonde boy put the phone to his ear, never ceasing to scan his surroundings for an approaching long-haired, blue-eyed go pro. For someone used to facing Shindou's non-expressions from across the goban while they were engrossed in a game, the deepening furrow in the younger pro's brow was almost screaming worry at Isumi. Shindou was clearly unsettled by Touya's seeming disappearance; the fact that Touya wasn't picking up his phone obviously wasn't being of any help in alleviating the problem. 

"He's not picking up his cellphone and I got the machine when I called his apartment." Hikaru reported as he dropped his phone back into his backpack, his expression caught somewhere between concern and anxiety. 

Waya, who had by now regained his abilities for coherent speech, scowled. "He's probably just late. Hell, he could have just had a really good time last night and overslept. Who knows? I say we go ahead without him." 

Watching Shindou cast Waya a mildly dirty look, Isumi hid his laughing eyes briefly behind his bangs. Whether it was for the suggestion that Touya had had a good time last night or the suggestion that they leave without Touya, Isumi didn't know. But then it really didn't matter either way, the implications were still there. "That may be the case if it was Shindou, but this is Touya we're talking about. He's not the sort of person to be late and not even call." 

"Yeah," Hikaru agreed, glancing at his watch. "It's eleven thirty already. Maybe I should go by his apartment again..." he trailed off into a mumble as he took a last look around. Once again not seeing any sign of his rival, Hikaru made up his mind. "Sorry Isumi-san, Waya. I'm gonna go look for him." Taking off at a run, he yelled back, "You two go and have fun!" 

"O - Oi!! Shindou!!" 

"Let him go Waya." Isumi gently put a hand on Waya's arm to prevent the other from following the departing Shindou. "Unless he finds Touya, he'll be too worried to do anything productive today." 

Looking up into Isumi's amused blue eyes and back at the direction that Shindou had taken, Waya subsided. A thoughtful expression flitted briefly over his face as he nudged the taller pro in the side. "Maybe we won't be needing that chibi-Shindou after all." 

"Maybe not," Isumi agreed, his lips betraying only a hint of the humor displayed in his eyes. 

~~ 

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, Hikaru took the stairs up to their fifth floor apartments two at a time. Quick calls to Ichikawa-san at the Touya Go Salon and the Go Institute while he'd been on the train had revealed that neither had seen Touya 6-dan today. Pushing open the door to the stairwell at the fifth floor, Hikaru glanced first at his own door to see if perhaps a note had been placed there belatedly, informing him of a sudden insertion into his rival's supposedly clear schedule today. 

Finding none, he quickened his steps until he was standing in front of Touya's door, pounding on it impatiently with a raised fist. "OI! Touya!! You in there?? Touya!!" 

He attempted to listen for any sound from inside the apartment by putting his ear to the door, but failed miserably on account of the well sound-proofed walls and doors of their apartment building; the only thing that had kept the neighbors from being disturbed by their regular shouting matches. 

"Touya!!" 

Five minutes later, when the door showed no signs of opening, Hikaru was ready to give up and leave when he remembered that he had a key to Touya's apartment. 

Fishing his keyring out of his pocket and finding the right one, he deliberated the decision for a few seconds. If Touya was home and had simply slept through both sessions of knocking on his apartment door and the phone ringing despite having arranged to be somewhere at eleven, then Hikaru figured he was well within his rights to give his rival a rude wake-up call. And if Touya wasn't home, then Hikaru was sure that all would be forgiven after he gave Touya a piece of his mind about not telling Hikaru where he was. 

Mind made up, he slipped the key in and pulled the door open, poking his head into the opening. "Touya...?" 

The first thing that struck him was that the apartment was dark, meaning that the blinds hadn't yet been pulled apart. Unlike Hikaru, Touya's morning routine adamantly dictated the opening of the blinds, the absence of which indicated quite evidently that the routine had yet to be performed. Which meant that Touya was clearly still in bed. 

Scowling, Hikaru let himself into the apartment, leaving his shoes and backpack at the door. The living room and attached kitchette revealed no Touya, only the note that Hikaru had placed on Akira's door which had been left on the counter. Through the open bathroom door, Hikaru could only see what must have been a jacket and pair of dirty pants as they'd been left on the side of the bathtub. 

Coming to Akira's closed bedroom door, Hikaru scowled harder as he rapped his knuckles on the hard surface smartly. "Touya! I can't believe you're still in bed!" Hearing only a faint mumble from the other side, Hikaru's scowl was replaced by a puzzled look. 

Touya was generally a light sleeper, so it was surprising enough that he'd be able to sleep through the ringing of his phone and the pounding at his door. There was no way he could sleep through someone knocking at his bedroom door. 

Turning the knob and easing the door open slightly, Hikaru peered in. "Touya...?" 

In the darkened bedroom, all he could make out was the vague shape of a human body curled into a ball under the blankets of Touya's bed. The shape was only recognisable as Touya by the crown of dark hair peering out from the top of the tight cocoon of blankets. 

Ire rising again, Hikaru was just getting ready to yell when he was stopped in his tracks by the slight movement on the bed. 

Despite being curled into a tight ball, Touya was shivering. 

"Touya!" 

* * *

**End Part 6... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** *cringe* I really didn't mean to do a mild cliffhanger ending right before my exam period... Given that this is a fluff fic, there wasn't even meant to be a cliffhanger ending *sweatdrop* On the upside though, AkiHika/HikaAki fluffiness (is there such word? ^^;;) will dominate the next three parts or so... Hopefully I'll be able to churn at least one out between exams... 


	7. Part 7: Bedside Manners

* * *

**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** In the middle of exams... in the middle of studying... muses are acting up again..... -_-;; My muses are evil, EVIL I tell you! Thanks once again to all the reviewers!! *runs and hides from muses*

To Yami no Tenshi: ^_^ The chibi-Shindou thing in the last part was just something that Isumi-san mentioned to Waya at the very end of part 4 when they were discussing what they were going to do about Hikaru and Akira *L* Not very important... just a bit of a running joke...

* * *

**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

* * *

**Part 7 - Bedside Manners**

Rushing in, Hikaru reached out to shake the figure buried in blankets. "Touya. Oi Touya!" he called softly. "Wake up. Touya!" 

The figure uncurled slightly and a face emerged from the blankets. "Shindou...?" 

Shocked by his rival's raspy voice and flushed face, Hikaru immediately put a hand on Touya's damp forehead. "You've got a fever," came the prompt diagnosis and Hikaru scowled at the young pro in the bed. "What did you do to yourself?" 

When Akira opened his mouth to attempt to answer, Hikaru cut him off with a decisive gesture of his hand. "Forget it! Don't talk. You can tell me later." Getting to his feet, he reached over for the lamp on the bedside table, making sure to aim the dim light away from Akira's eyes. Then he headed for the closet. "Now where do you keep the spare blankets?" he mumbled to himself under his breath. 

"Top left." 

Hikaru tossed an irritated glare over his shoulder. "Didn't I tell you not to talk?" 

Despite huddling into the blankets further and feeling like he'd been run over by a steam roller, Akira's habit of arguing with Shindou still held strong. "You asked the question." 

"Whatever," Hikaru conceded, bringing the spare blankets over and piling them onto the bed so that they covered Touya's shivering figure. "I'm not the one who was dumb enough to get himself this sick." 

Sensing his rival about to reply, Hikaru glared, emphasising his point by waving his finger at Touya's nose. "I don't wanna hear it! Now stay put while I go get the medicine." 

Akira blinked as Hikaru blew like a hurricane out his bedroom door but then obediently relaxed under the comforting weight of extra blankets. 

Meanwhile, Hikaru was floundering in Akira's kitchen, unsure where his rival kept his medicine box. Reluctant to go ask Touya, he finally went and retrieved the asprin and cold medicine from his own apartment before bringing both and a glass of water back into Touya's bedroom. 

Setting the medicine on the bedside table, Hikaru perched himself on the edge of Akira's bed. "Can you sit up?" When Akira managed to lever himself up on an elbow, Hikaru gently handed him the glass of water. "Here." 

He allowed Touya to take a few sips then asked softly, "How do you feel?" 

Akira sighed, at least his throat felt a little better after the water. "Headache and a sore throat." 

"Anything else?" 

One shake of his head told Akira that it was not a good idea to be doing that any time soon, so he settled for a quiet "no". 

"I'm surprised you haven't got it worse," Hikaru scoffed. He shook out a few pills and handed them to Akira. "Your fever's pretty high. How'd you get so sick anyway?" 

Swallowing the pills and a few more sips of water, Akira answered, "Got caught in the rain." 

At that, Hikaru's brows lowered in a fierce frown; one he made sure Akira saw as he helped resettle his rival into the bed. "I thought I told you to take an umbrella!" 

"I did!" Akira attempted to reply at Hikaru's volume, only to have his voice come out a hoarse, painful rasp and his headache begin to pound. He didn't protest when Shindou gently lifted his head to coax more water into him to sooth his throat. 

"Hang on a second," Hikaru said as he got up. "I'm going to go get a towel." With that, he left the room and came back a few moments later with a wash basin filled with cold water and a small towel. 

Wringing excess water from the towel, the bleached-blonde pro adeptly swept dark bangs off Akira's forehead to wipe off the dampness. 

Akira blinked, dumbfounded. Despite the look of intense concentration on his rival's face, hovering above his own, the ministrations were most carefully controlled and gentle. Absently, he wondered whether he was hallucinating. Five minutes ago, had he not been sick and drugged, he could have come up with a million words to describe Shindou Hikaru and 'gentle' certainly wouldn't have come close to any of them. 

"When did you get so good at this?" Akira ventured to ask, making sure to keep his voice to a bare whisper as the towel went back into the basin to rinse and be wrung out again. 

"Kaa-san taught me." Hikaru flashed him a lopsided grin, flipping the towel into a neat rectangle and laying it on Akira's forehead. "Just be glad you're not Akari. The first time I did this... must've been when I was still in fifth grade... her parents had to step out to do something so they asked me to sit with her. She was sweating so I thought I'd do what I'd seen everybody else do on TV. I ended up drenching her pillow and waking her up because I forgot to wring out the towel." 

Hikaru chuckled at the memory. "After that episode, Kaa-san took me aside and explained to me how to do it properly." 

Akira smiled faintly. It wasn't often that he was treated to Shindou's childhood memories. 

Watching his rival's lips quirk up, Hikaru felt his spirits lift. It couldn't be too bad if Touya could smile right? 

"So what happened to the umbrella?" 

"Hmm? Oh, the umbrella." Akira nestled a little deeper into the now warm blankets, feeling the drowsiness from both his lack of sleep and the medication begin to creep up on him. "Nakamura-san had to go home unexpectedly. She said she lived too close to call a taxi and she didn't have an umbrella. I couldn't let her run home in the rain, so I gave her mine." 

Hikaru raised an eyebrow. He could see where this was going. "Please tell me *you* didn't run home in the rain." 

"I waited, but I couldn't find a taxi." 

Hikaru exploded. "Are you crazy?! It was pouring bucketfuls last night! Not to mention freezing. How stupid would you have to be to run through that and not expect to get sick?!" 

"Don't call me stupid!" Akira shook himself awake and glared as fiercely as he could, which was to say not much. His head hurt, and no matter what his fuming rival thought, he did still possess a sense of self preservation. 

"If what you did wasn't stupid, I dunno what is," Hikaru retorted stubbornly. Reaching over for the already warm towel, he repeated the dunk, rinse and wring process before replacing it on Akira's forehead. 

"It was cold, standing and waiting outside..." 

Catching Akira's eyes begin to droop shut, Hikaru sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. It was still stupid. Now go to sleep. You'll probably feel better when you wake up." 

Ever the gracious host, even in his state, Akira fought to stay awake. "What are you going to do?" 

Blinking as if the matter had just occurred to him, Hikaru shrugged and looked around the room. Spotting Akira's goban, he dragged it over closer to the bed. "I'll keep myself busy. Sleep!" 

Letting the warmth of the blankets steal over him for the first time since he'd gotten home, Akira settled down to the comforting rustle of go stones in the go-ke and the quiet 'pa-chi' as each was placed onto the goban. Turning his head slightly, he watched the progression of white and black over the board for a few moments, recognising the pattern almost immediately. 

It was their long-awaited match against each other after Shindou's mysterious string of forfeits. Two years and four months of waiting and watching had, in the end, boiled down to this most enjoyable and rewarding game. 

Recalling his feelings at the end of that game, Akira drifted to sleep with a smile playing on his lips. Some things were worth waiting for. 

Listening to Akira's breathing even out, Hikaru paused with his hand in the go-ke and glanced over to check on his friend. Finding him asleep with a slight upward curve of the lips, the bleached-blonde go pro lifted a corner of his own lips in response. 

"Idiot," he muttered, eyes exasperated but bright, as he returned his attention to the goban. 

* * *

**End Part 7... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** *grins* One dose of fluffiness down, a few more to come... *L* Apologies for the extremely short part -- it was the best place to end while I'm still between exams ^^;;; The next part will definitely be longer! Coming up: HikaGo maths! (one domestically challenged Shindou Hikaru) – (one sick and bedridden Touya Akira) + (one nice and clean kitchen) = recipe for disaster? ^_^ 


	8. Part 8: A Company of Two

* * *

**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** Exams are over~!! ^_____^ Month-long break coming up so back to concentrating on this fic. As always, thanks to all the readers and especially the reviewers!!

* * *

**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

* * *

**Part 8 - A Company of Two**

As the sun set over the horizon, Hikaru knuckled his eyes and waited for them to refocus properly. Slumping back onto his hands in his sitting position, he stared up at the ceiling and sighed. There was only so much game recreation he could stand to do in a day, especially when he wasn't concentrating. 

Touya's sleep hadn't been very peaceful, broken by restless tossing and turning. This prompted regular glances towards the bed to ensure that the dark haired go pro hadn't kicked off his blankets in the process. There were also frequent trips to the bed and water basin to keep the towel on Akira's forehead cool and in place. And while Akira's fever had receded somewhat, it still hadn't done so enough for Hikaru's peace of mind. 

All in all, the last few hours spent at the goban had been pretty unproductive. Even working through a book of Shuusaku's kifu that he had found on Akira's bookshelf hadn't kept his attention for very long. 

He cast a last look over the black and white stones on the goban before gathering and dropping them into their respective go-ke. The long accustomed movements were, as always, casual and proficient. Never once did they hint at the annoyance that revealed itself only in Hikaru's green eyes. 

He could have been at the go salons today, playing Waya and Isumi-san and Touya and all the other go salon regulars. Maybe they could've even squeezed in a game of pair go over Waya's protests since Hikaru and Touya had yet to be defeated in the friendly games they had played with fellow young pros. Instead, Touya was sick, and he himself had spent the afternoon with only a goban and a book of kifu for company. On top of that, he was sure that the next time he showed his face around the go salons, Kawai-san would give him an earful about not visiting often enough. It would come complete with the hair ruffle that Kawai-san hadn't stopped inflicting on him even though he was already nineteen. All because some silly girl had forgotten her umbrella. 

It didn't take a genius to figure out that, at this moment in time, Shindou Hikaru was not a happy camper. 

His stomach growled. 

Make that an unhappy and hungry camper. 

Hikaru ran a hand through his bleached bangs, smiling sheepishly to himself. Come to think of it, it was already dinner time and he hadn't even had lunch yet. Touya was probably hungry as well since it didn't look like he'd had anything to eat either. 

Dragging himself to the kitchenette, Hikaru began rummaging for edible substances of the instant variety, the fridge being readily foregone in favor of the cupboards. Given that most things in the fridge probably required just a little more than the most basic culinary skills, such as boiling water, he figured it was better not to flirt with danger. He didn't think Touya would appreciate him trying to set his kitchen on fire. 

Hikaru scanned the rows of condiments and packages, eyes finally lighting up when he caught sight of the instant ramen bowls and soup packets. From experience, his mother had always brought him soup whenever he was sick and didn't have an appetite. Of course, his mother's soup had always been home-made, but Touya was obviously out of luck in that department. 

Mind made up, he grabbed a ramen bowl for himself and selected a chicken noodle soup for his rival. He nudged the cupboard door closed with his hip, eyeing the directions on the back of the soup packet with a bit of suspicion. That Touya had bought instant soup was surprising enough, it was too much to hope for that his dark-haired rival would have picked an instant-instant powder soup. As it was, this one required the addition of fresh vegetables pieces but all in all didn't seem too bad. He hoped. 

As per the instructions, he went to Touya's fridge and pulled out some spinach and mushrooms. The washing and slicing process fortunately went off without a hitch. 

"Four cups water... saucepan... bring to boil... lower heat... add contents... stir..." Hikaru muttered to himself, determined to follow the instructions to the letter. 

It was only when the soup was happily simmering on the stove that Hikaru ran into a dead end. "Add vegetables and simmer until cooked. Don't overcook." He drew a blank. What was cooked, and what was overcooked? How could you tell? Was it when they went limp? Or was that overcooked? But they couldn't be as stiff as they were when they were raw right? So somewhere between not stiff and too limp? But that didn't tell him anything! 

Feeling completely out of his element, Hikaru hesitantly dropped the vegetable pieces into the saucepan. It looked like he'd be sticking with the instant foods for a while longer; cooking was almost more stressful than playing a tough opponent at go. Cautiously, he poked the vegetables with the ladle as someone would a dangerous weapon. Still seemed stiff... 

The loud ringing of the phone startled him out of his wary regard of the vegetables. Not wanting the sound to wake Touya up, he sprinted for the receiver. 

"Hello?" He said distractedly, eyes fixated on the saucepan across the living room in the kitchenette. Given his luck, he was almost convinced that the soup would somehow find a way to self-destruct, and take Touya's kitchen with it, while he was away. 

"Ummm... hello... This is Nakamura," came a girl's voice over the handset. "I was wondering if I could speak with Touya-san...?" 

Hikaru could feel the irritation come on again; here was the root of all his problems today. Shifting his eyes, he turned to fix the innocent wall with an accusing glare. "Why?" 

"Oh, well I wanted to apologise... for leaving early last night." 

Hikaru rolled his eyes. "I'll pass it on. He's sick so he can't come to the phone." 

"Is he all right??" the girl sounded upset. "He seemed fine last night..." 

"He got drenched coming home," Hikaru replied abruptly as an appetizing smell assaulted his nose. Recognising it, his eyes widened. The soup!! 

"Sorry, I gotta go!!" he said in a rush and hung up, not noticing that he had cut the girl off mid-apology. 

Rushing back into the kitchenette, Hikaru hurriedly switched the burner off and stared anxiously at the soup. It looked okay... He sniffed at the steam rising out of the saucepan. And there didn't seem to be a burnt smell in the air... Warily, he poked the vegetables again. The mushrooms were a bit limp, but the spinach managed to pass the test of 'somewhere between too stiff and not limp'. 

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he ladled out a little of the soup onto a dish and took a tentative sip, face scrunched up and prepared for the worst. Swallowing, he slowly eased an eye open. It didn't taste that bad. Finishing the portion on the dish, a delighted smile flashed across his face. It actually tasted pretty good. 

Hikaru put the kettle on for his instant ramen and ladled out a bowl of the soup for his rival, good nature restored. Touya would just have to put up with the limp vegetables. At least the soup tasted good. 

When everything was ready on a tray, he took it into Touya's room, setting it on the nightstand. Perching himself on the edge of the bed again, he took the towel off his friend's forehead and laid his hand there for a moment. The fever was still there, but it had dropped enough that the towel was no longer needed. He dropped it into the basin and returned it to the bathroom. When he came back, he reached out to shake his rival. 

"Touya. Touya wake up." 

Groggily, Akira opened his eyes and blinked at the familiar face hovering above his own. As the sequence of events slowly came back to him, he was able to give a small nod to Shindou's question about whether he felt better. "You've been here all day...?" He asked his own question in a whisper. 

Hikaru shrugged, glad that Touya seemed recovered enough to talk. "It was only a few hours. I kept myself busy with your book on Shuusaku's kifu," he returned in a low murmur. "You feel up to eating something? I doubt you've had anything since last night." 

Registering the smell of food, Akira glanced at the tray on his nightstand. The instant ramen was obviously Shindou's and he absently gave himself a pat on the back for picking it up on his last shopping trip. However, the innocent looking bowl next to it, clearly meant to be his own dinner, brought a mildly apprehensive look to his face. Catching Hikaru's eyes, he asked half jokingly, "Is my kitchen destroyed?" 

Hikaru blinked at the seeming non sequitur before scowling. "No, your kitchen is not destroyed. It was instant! So much for gratitude." 

Despite his lack of appetite, Akira let his rival help him sit up and place the tray with the soup in his lap without protest. He smiled faintly as Shindou grumbled about his kitchen comment all the way through the process. 

Picking up his own chopsticks and ramen bowl off the tray, Hikaru fixed Akira with a stern look. "Eat that!" he commanded, gesturing at the soup with the tips of his chopsticks. Correctly interpreting the look on Touya's face, he added, "Even if you don't feel like it, you still need to eat something! And since I went to the trouble of making it for you, you'd better appreciate it!" Glaring until Touya had picked up both spoon and bowl, Hikaru then proceeded to dig into his own dinner. 

Akira pushed his spoon around in the soup for a while, watching Shindou devour his ramen, before taking a cautious first sip. Pleasantly surprised by the delicious taste, Akira raised another spoonful to his lips. "It's good. Even if it is instant." 

Distracted from his meal, Hikaru glanced at Touya out of the corner of his eye. Catching the mildly smug grin on his rival's face, he couldn't help but let the corners of his own lips quirk upwards. Trust Touya to throw his own words back at him given half the chance. Swallowing a mouthful of ramen, he rolled his eyes in feigned irritation in spite of the merry twinkle displayed in them. "Of all the people I know, only you would buy instant stuff that still required cooking!" 

Akira lifted an eyebrow. "That's because I don't run the risk of burning down the apartment every time I cook them. Unlike some people I know." Watching his rival bristle, he hid an amused grin behind the rim of his bowl, finishing up his soup. 

"That's it!" Hikaru narrowed his eyes at Akira as he collected the utensils and empty bowls from their dinner. "See if I ever cook for you again!" 

Laughing inwardly, Akira watched Hikaru indignantly storm his way out the bedroom door, dishes in hand. In truth, he did feel slightly better for having something in his stomach. And the soup had actually been pretty good. Being sick somehow didn't seem so bad when there was someone around. 

Admittedly, if it had been anyone but Shindou, Akira probably would have insisted that they not trouble themselves taking care of him; that he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. Yet with Shindou, it was simply better not to waste his breath. Knowing his rival as he did, Shindou would never give up what he wanted, even if he had to tread on a few toes to get it. 

"Ungrateful jerk," Hikaru muttered upon re-entering the room with a glass of water. 

Akira huffed. "Pyromaniac." 

Hikaru had the good graces to redden before shooting back, "Drowned rat." 

"Mother hen," Akira retorted, aiming a mild glare at his rival. 

"Hey! I'm the one doing you a favor here!" Hikaru replied hotly, sending Akira a glare of his own. "Stupid!" he added on for good measure. 

"I am not stupid!" 

The two young go pros remained in position for a few moments, gazes locked in a stare-down. At last, Hikaru couldn't hold back a wide grin and at Akira's answering shake of his head in amusement, dissolved into quiet laughter. 

Walking the rest of the way over to the bed, Hikaru handed over the glass of water, smile still in place. Shaking out a few more pills from the bottles on the nightstand, he passed those to Akira as well. "Take those and get some more sleep. Hopefully you'll be okay by morning." 

Obediently, Akira downed the pills and settled back into the bed. "Are you going home?" 

Hikaru shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'll get the dishes done first though." Inwardly, he was rolling his eyes; Touya was a demon about not letting dirty dishes stand in the sink. Returning his attention to the sick boy in the bed, he asked, "You gonna be okay on your own?" 

Squashing an irrational feeling of uneasiness, Akira nodded. "I'll be fine." 

Hikaru aimed a probing gaze at his rival. "You're sure?" 

"Positive." 

At the more definite-sounding answer, Hikaru dipped his head in acceptance. "Okay. I'll wait until you're asleep though." 

With that, he made for the door and was just about to step out when he turned back with an impish grin. "Immature idiot." 

"Absent-minded brat!" Akira directed his words through the doorway at Hikaru's back and was rewarded with the bleached-blonde pro's carefree laughter. 

Smiling in response, Akira let his eyes drift shut and fell asleep to the sound of running water and his rival's occasional chuckles. 

~~ 

Dishes washed and put away, Hikaru gave a big yawn as he stretched. It had been a tiring day and it was probably time to get to bed and sleep. Padding across the living room, he stuck his head into Akira's bedroom and was satisfied to see his rival sleeping quietly. 

As he prepared to head for the front door to leave, the image of that fleeting look that had crossed Touya's face when he'd been asked if he'd be okay on his own, came back to him. Pausing mid-step, he wrinkled his brow in thought. 

The expression had been too short-lived to be deciphered properly. But knowing Touya, the dark-haired boy would probably still insist that he'd be okay even when he was about to get a limb amputated or something. It was just the kind of person Touya Akira was, outside of anything relating to go: polite, unassuming and reluctant to cause anyone else inconvenience. 

Rolling his eyes in gentle exasperation and suppressing another yawn, Hikaru made his way back into his rival's bedroom where he proceeded to drag the goban over next to the bed for the second time that day. He'd stay for a while longer, and make sure that Touya was going to be okay. 

Sitting with his back leaning against the side of Touya's bed, he picked up the book of Shuusaku's kifu and once again absorbed himself in it. But it wasn't long before the day's activities and worries overcame the young pro, letting the book fall to his chest with his fingers still marking the pages. A small black stone dropped almost noiselessly to the floor from the limp fingers of Hikaru's right hand, now splayed at his side. 

So it was like this that two go pros spent the night. One in the bed, warm under a mountain of blankets, the other leaning against the bed with his head drooping gently onto his chest. Together with a goban on which vague shapes of black and white were scattered, and a book of Shuusaku's kifu, they waited patiently for the dawning of a new day. 

* * *

**End Part 8... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** Well... at least the kitchen still exists to be destroyed another day *LOL* Another dose of fluffiness down and one more to go ^_^ Coming up: the scene that spawned the fic!! *wide grin* 


	9. Part 9: Morning Banter

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** *L* This part contains the actual scene that spawned the entire fic ^^;; And yes, if anyone is wondering, the fic is growing... -_-;; It was originally meant to be a three to four part short story and has, at this point, already become a fifty page fluff-epic. This just goes to prove that I can't write short fics to save my life. And that Hikaru and Akira are too cute for their own good ^^;; My thanks go to all the readers and reviewers who have stuck with this fic and I hope you continue to enjoy it ^_^

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 9 - Morning Banter**

Slanting rays of morning sunshine shining onto his face woke Akira from a deep and untroubled rest. Struggling to remain in Morpheus's embrace, he wrinkled his nose at the light and rolled onto his side away from the window in a futile attempt to escape. Nevertheless, the sunlight was persistent; somehow finding a way to reach him even as he tried to bury himself in his blankets. 

Eventually conceding defeat, Akira blearily opened his eyes and rubbed them gently with his fingers. When they refocused, he strained his neck upwards to catch sight of his alarm clock. It was in the process of determining the time as ten past ten that the events of the day before slowly came back to Akira, prompting a sigh of relief that yesterday's pounding headache had been reduced to a mild throb. Then he became aware of the sound of another's slow breathing pattern in the otherwise silent room. 

Turning to the sound, the dark-haired go pro was mildly surprised to find his rival fast asleep leaning against his bed. Long blonde bangs feathered gently around Hikaru's relaxed face, the book of Shuusaku's kifu still resting on his chest. Akira frowned, puzzled. Hadn't Shindou said he was going to go home last night? Not that he wasn't grateful that he had stayed of course. 

Hikaru shifted restlessly in his sleep, drawing his legs up to his chest while a frown appeared to mar the peaceful expression on his slumbering face. Akira held his breath, not wanting to wake his friend. As Hikaru settled down again with a faint mumble, Akira belatedly realised that his rival had fallen asleep with no blanket to guard against the cold. 

'And he calls me stupid,' Akira thought, gingerly easing himself out of bed. Grabbing one of the blankets Shindou had piled on top of him yesterday, the dark haired go pro knelt to drape it gently around his rival's shoulders. Mindful of the goban behind him, Akira was so intent on his task that he almost fell back when he looked up to see a pair of sleepy green eyes centered on him. 

Hikaru stifled a yawn as he drowsily regarded Akira's wide blue eyes. "Wha're you doin' outta bed?" 

"Some idiot fell asleep last night without a blanket," Akira replied, frowning in disapproval. "Are you trying to make yourself sick?" 

Head clearing at the word 'sick', Hikaru scowled lightly before it was interrupted by another stifled yawn. "If that was the case, I obviously didn't try as hard as you did." 

Opening his mouth to continue the verbal war, Akira blinked when a warm hand laid itself on his forehead. A glance over to his rival showed that Hikaru had his other hand on his own forehead as a gauge. 

"At least the fever's gone." 

The hand slid lightly away, and for the briefest of moments, Akira lamented the loss of that comforting warmth. 

"How's the headache?" 

"Better," Akira answered, shaking himself back to reality. 

"And the throat?" 

Akira nodded. "Better as well." 

A wide grin spread over Hikaru's face. "Ha! Shindou-sensei to the rescue! See? You should listen to me more often!" 

Attempting to hide the answering smile on his face, Akira rolled his eyes. "Shindou, if I listened to you any more than I do, we'd be living in a ramen stand." 

"Hey! Is that any way to treat the person that nursed you back to health?" Hikaru feigned an angry scowl. "You should show more respect!" 

Akira smirked, the tone of his voice leaving no doubts about his sarcasm. "Yes, Shindou-sensei. My *eternal* gratitude." 

Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "You're still an ungrateful jerk. Now get back in bed and I'll go get us some breakfast." Levering himself onto his hands to push himself up off the floor, the bleached-blonde go pro had failed to take into account how close he and his rival had been sitting. As a consequence, the minor collision of noses had both boys rocking backwards with a hand held firmly over the abused appendage. 

"Oww..." Hikaru mumbled. "Touya!!" 

Akira, on the other hand, was looking at the grumbling Hikaru with wide, startled eyes. Shaking himself, he quickly rose to his feet, resolutely suppressing a most irrational blush that was attempting to stain his cheeks. It was only when he was on his feet that the feeling of blood rushing to his head checked him, yesterday's headache prancing back to bid him a sadistically cheerful good-morning. 

Eyes widening to see his rival swaying on his feet, Hikaru shot to his own and reached out to steady the dark haired go pro with a hand on each of Akira's arms. "Oi. Touya! You okay?" Gently, he turned them both around and sat Akira down on the edge of his bed. 

"Shindou! I'm not an invalid!" Akira attempted protesting loudly and was forced to clench his jaw as the headache throbbed painfully again. 

Hikaru lifted an eyebrow into his blonde bangs. "You're also still sick, so just get back in already! Jeeze... Ya know, you have problems with people telling you what to do." 

"And you don't?" Akira replied caustically, despite obediently climbing back into the nest of blankets under Hikaru's watchful eyes. 

"Yeah well... At least I have a better developed sense of self-preservation," Hikaru pointed out with a grin. "Now what do you want for breakfast?" 

Akira shot him a coolly amused glance. "Do I trust you in my kitchen with anything more complicated than toast?" 

Face falling, Hikaru stuck out his tongue. "You're cruel, ya know that?" he accused the other boy jokingly and then turned to exit the bedroom. "Toast it is!" 

Leaning back into his pillows, headache subsiding, Akira listened to the almost alarmingly domestic sounds drifting through the open bedroom door; kitchen drawers being pulled out, the kettle whistling, the fridge door opening and shutting, and utensils tinkling as they made contact with ceramic plates. Then as the sound of the toaster spitting out golden-brown slices of bread reached his ears, a faint hiss and mild curse from Shindou brought a knowing smile to his face. Breakfast had obviously not gone off without a hitch. 

When Shindou returned to the room with a tray of tea, toast and spreads, there were still signs of a disgusted look on his face. Akira valiantly curbed his amused grin but was unable to keep the silent laughter of out his eyes or his voice. "Burnt your fingers on the toast?" 

Hikaru threw him a dirty look. "Not funny!" 

Although still smiling, Akira didn't take the opportunity to retaliate and both settled down to a quiet breakfast. 

Halfway through, Hikaru paused in the middle of bites of his toast. "Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. That Nakamura girl called yesterday while you were asleep." 

"Oh? What did she say?" 

Hikaru blinked as Akira's voice turned just slightly cooler and the warm blue gaze that had been amused only a second ago became glassy. "Umm... not much. Just that she was sorry for leaving dinner early and stuff." He watched that tiniest hint of winter slowly drain off his rival's face and felt the tension that he hadn't even been aware of, seep out of his shoulders. 

Akira made a muted noise of acknowledgement but otherwise declined to comment. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Hikaru asked, "So how was dinner anyway?" 

"Uneventful," Akira shrugged. "There wasn't a lot to talk about." 

Hikaru studied his friend's face closely. "In other words, she talked while you smiled and nodded automatically." 

At Akira's surprised look, the bleached-blonde go pro laughed. "Touya, I've seen you talk with people you don't want to. Every time you do, you get this scary look in your eyes, like this..." He attempted to school his features into a replica of what he was describing. Needless to say, he failed miserably and succeeded only in making a comical face that had himself laughing breathlessly. 

Akira spluttered, a hint of red coming to his cheeks. "I do not!" 

"Yes you do!" Hikaru crowed. "I've seen you! It's like you're smiling and listening, but behind that, you're just furiously thinking how to crush them in a game." He continued laughing. "I dunno how they don't notice it, but they just keep jabbering on and it's hilarious!" 

"I'm glad you find it funny," Akira huffed, taking a big bite of his toast to wait out his rival's laughing fit. 

Finally getting a hold on himself, Hikaru returned to breakfast. However, the grin never left his face and even the slightest glimpse of Akira's mildly put out expression set him off on a fresh round of chuckles. 

Finishing his toast, Akira took up his tea in both hands and regarded his rival over the rim. The corner of his lips twitched up slightly, unbidden, at the sight of Shindou making a fool of himself just by laughing. Lowering the tea cup, Akira said, "I'm sorry you didn't get to the go salons yesterday..." 

"Hm?" Shindou turned to him with questioning eyes, a slice of toast still clenched between his teeth as he chewed. 

"The go salons. I'm sorry you didn't go because you had to spend yesterday taking care of me." 

Swallowing, Hikaru waved a careless hand in Akira's direction. "Nah, don't worry about it! It's not as if it was *all* your fault anyway. You can make it up to me next time we go." 

Akira smiled slightly and drained his tea. A brief glance at the clock revealed that it was almost eleven. "Don't you have a tutoring session today?" 

"Yeah..." Hikaru mumbled, polishing off the last of his toast. "At twelve. Should probably go and get ready." Gathering up the dishes, he aimed a commanding look Akira's way. "You, stay in bed! I'll do the dishes when I get back." 

Rolling his eyes, Akira let it go and watched Hikaru leave the room with the remains of their breakfast. 

Moments later, Hikaru was back with another glass of water. "Here. Take your medicine." 

Taking the water, Akira smirked faintly at his rival. "You should probably go get dressed. Knowing you, it'll take a while to get your tie on." 

This time, it was Hikaru's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah yeah..." It wasn't that he couldn't do his tie, he could! It just took a while... 

Turning to exit the bedroom, a thought struck Hikaru and his eyes widened. "Oh crap!" 

Akira blinked at the expletive. "What?" 

"I was meant to do the laundry when I got back yesterday! I totally forgot!" 

Hard-pressed not to react to Shindou's panicked state, Akira's lips twitched. "I told you you were absent-minded." 

"It's not funny Touya!!" Hikaru yelled. "It's all your fault anyway!" 

Akira raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Now it's *all* my fault?" 

"I would have remembered when I'd gotten home yesterday but you had to make me all worried by pulling your disappearing act!" Unaware that his rival was about to object, Hikaru rambled on. "What am I gonna do now? I don't have any clean shirts!" 

"Borrow one of mine." 

Hikaru froze and looked at Akira's calm but amused expression with a dumbfounded one of his own. "Huh?" 

"I said, you can borrow one of mine," Akira repeated. 

"Really?" 

A hint of exasperation tinged Akira's bemused eyes. "Yes! I wouldn't have said so otherwise!" He pointed to one of the closet doors, inwardly batting away the niggling fingers of guilt at having been a nuisance, however disagreeably. "We're the same size, they should fit you." 

Relief swept over Hikaru's face and he grinned at his rival before opening the closet door. "Thanks Touya! You're a life saver." 

Akira sipped at his water, watching the other go pro over the rim of the glass. "Guess we're even then." 

Hikaru tossed a wicked grin over his shoulder. "Not even close. This is your fault remember?" 

Declining to retaliate, Akira reached for the pills on the nightstand and was just about to toss them back when he was interrupted by a mirthful Hikaru. 

"Hey Touya! How come you don't wear this shirt anymore? The color suits you." Grinning impishly, Hikaru held up a perfectly pressed peach pink shirt that Akira had forgotten was stashed at the very back of his closet from his very early pro days. 

He reddened. "Shindou!!" 

Laughing and dodging the pillow that had been launched at him, Hikaru replaced the shirt and randomly selected another light blue one. Picking up the pillow at his feet, he tossed it over onto the bed and headed for the door. "Thanks for the shirt Touya!" 

Just before walking through, he turned to aim another grin at his scowling but flushed rival. "And stay in bed! I'll pick up some more medicine on the way home and be back soon." 

With a final wave, he was out the door, chuckling under his breath as he let himself out of the apartment. 

* * *

**End Part 9... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** *grins* The peach pink shirt reference comes from one of the pictures in the Sai artbook when Akira's wearing it with a light purple suit ^^;; I have no idea why Obata-sensei put him in that color combo, but I'd like to think that Akira has more fashion sense now that he's older *L* And the "sensei" referred to in "Shindou-sensei" was meant to be interpreted as "doctor", not "teacher". Dunno why I chose to do it in Jap... It just felt weird calling him "Dr. Shindou" ^^;;

And the scene that spawned the fic? It was actually a fanart of an older Hikaru looking extremely cool wearing a black suit, black tie and purple shirt. I kept looking at the shirt and thinking that it looked more like an Akira shirt than a Hikaru shirt. Hence the Hikaru wearing Akira's shirt scenario *L*

Coming up: The appearance of Ogata-sensei! The return of the infamous umbrella! And bundling Akira off to Korea! ^_^ Yes, I'm separating the boys for a while... coz I'm evil *grins* and the plot demands it... 


	10. Part 10: Empty

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** *sweatdrops* Profuse apologies to those who have been waiting for this part for... ^^;; a month?? RL has not been kind during the break and, as seems to be the trend with my muses, when I'm on break, they're on break..... -_-;; I really hate my muses...

Anyhoo, this part ties up the loose ends and launches into the final parts of the fic ^^;; After countless moans of "Why is this fic growing?!?!", it's finally gonna start coming to a close *is relieved* Of course, couldn't have done it without the encouragement from all the reviewers!! Thank you!!

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

* * *

**Part 10 - Empty**

Not with just a little bit of annoyance, Ogata Seiji 10-dan, Gosei and Ouza, wondered when he had become a personal message delivery service. 

A phone call last night from an upset Nakamura Chitose, the daughter of one of his old teachers, had informed him that Touya Akira was sick. Most likely from running through the pouring rain two nights ago, after he had done the gentlemanly thing and given Chitose his own umbrella. 

The phone call had also contained a plea that he tell her Touya 6-dan's address so that she could go and apologise in person. Apparently, the man who had picked up the phone at Akira's house had hung up without hearing her out. 

When he had refused to do so, respecting Akira's wish to not have his home address divulged, Ogata had then been relegated to the position of messenger. And so here he stood, outside Touya Akira's apartment door, the wayward umbrella in his hand and Chitose's frantic requests for forgiveness running through his mind. 

Releasing a small breath in mild disgust, he lifted his hand to knock. 

"Ogata-sensei?" 

Turning at the sound of his name, Ogata acknowledged the young man walking towards him. "Shindou." 

"Are you here to see Touya?" Hikaru asked as he stopped next to the blonde man and dug into his pockets for his keys. "He's kinda sick." 

Ogata nodded once. "Nakamura-san asked me to return his umbrella." 

Hikaru glanced down at the umbrella in the older man's hand and grinned slightly. "I don't think he'll be going anywhere for a few days." Opening Akira's apartment door, he stood back to let Ogata in first. "Come on in." 

Inwardly, Ogata was raising a curious eyebrow. He had been aware that Shindou and Akira were neighbors. He had not been aware that Shindou had a key to Akira's apartment. It was an interesting development, given the exceedingly private person that was Touya Akira. 

He was already moving to step past the waiting Shindou when a familiar sight caught him up short. The boys had grown up fast. Compared to when they were kids, Ogata now only had a few inches on either of them at best. All the better to see the collar of Shindou's blue shirt, which was embroidered with a faint "TA" on the corners of both sides. 

Before Shindou could realise that he was staring, Ogata continued on into the apartment, carefully processing the information his eyes had just related to his brain. 

If he wasn't mistaken, and he was sure that he wasn't, that shirt had been Akira's mother's present to her son on his last birthday. How Shindou came to be wearing it, have a key to Akira's apartment, and be toeing off his shoes, dumping his backpack and walking into said apartment like it was the most natural of actions, he didn't know. But it was getting more interesting by the minute. 

Following Shindou into the living room, his ears were immediately assailed by the younger pro's yell. 

"What the hell are you doing outta bed?!" 

"I was hungry," Akira replied calmly, unmoved in the face of his rival's irritation. Looking past Hikaru, he caught sight of the other person in his apartment. "Ogata-san!" 

Ogata nodded in acknowledgement. "Akira-kun." Refraining from saying anything else, he watched the bleached blonde Shindou stalk towards the apartment's owner. A smirk curled a corner of his lips as he observed the dynamics between the two rivals unfold. 

"I thought I told you that I'd do the dishes when I got back!" Hikaru scowled, glaring pointedly at the plates in Akira's hands, ready to be put away. "Why don't you ever listen?" 

Akira raised a silent eyebrow at his rival. Then he walked over and dumped the pile of plates into Hikaru's arms. "Fine. You can put them away." 

Turning to a quietly amused Ogata, he smiled politely. "Please have a seat Ogata-san. Can I get you tea?" 

"Tea is fine," Ogata replied, seating himself on the couch where he could still see the goings on in the kitchenette. 

As Akira filled the kettle and prepared tea, Hikaru blinked uncomprehendingly at the plates that had appeared in his arms. Brain catching up, he cast Touya a dirty look but obediently proceeded to put the plates and bowls away. "Ya know, you have an obsession with doing dishes," he muttered at the other boy. 

Choosing not to deny it, Akira went for a different tack. "At least it's not as bad as your obsession with ramen." 

"I hope you realise you're still sick." 

Akira gave the bleached blonde pro an exasperated look. "Shindou, I'm sick, but I'm not an invalid." 

Hikaru snorted. "Coulda fooled me yesterday." Digging into his jacket pocket, he came out with a slightly crumpled white paper bag and held it out. "Here, I picked up some more medicine." 

"Thanks," Akira returned. Reaching out to take the bag, their fingers brushed for the briefest of moments as Akira added, "Hadn't you better go do your laundry?" He smiled coolly, eyes laughing. "You've got a game tomorrow." 

"Yeah yeah," Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Smart ass. Guess I'm not needed here. But you'd better be back in bed after you're done talking with Ogata-sensei! I don't wanna have to nurse you back to health again if you relapse." 

"Yes, Shindou-*sensei*." 

Hikaru stuck his tongue out at Akira's sarcastic reply. "You suck." 

Akira smirked. But as Hikaru turned to leave, he pressed a steaming mug of tea into the bleached blonde's hands. "Take that with you. Your fingers are freezing." 

Hikaru blinked down at the mug then lifted his head and grinned. "Thanks." Walking out, he made a small bow to the blonde man on the couch. "I'll see you later Ogata-sensei." 

Hearing the front door slam shut, Ogata focused his attention on the approaching Akira. Graciously accepting the offered tea, he leaned back to study the boy he'd watched grow up. If he had had to pick three words to describe Touya Akira, they would have to be serious, intense and focused. Never had he seen Akira as relaxed or as lively as in the last few minutes. Not even in his parents' house had he ever displayed any sign of there being a playful side to his personality. 

Granted, 'playfulness' didn't really fit with the reserved and dignified air that lingered around the former Meijin and the go students that frequently visited the Touya family home. Even so, Akira had never shown an inclination to mingle with those of his own age until the day Shindou Hikaru breezed into his life. It was then that Akira had seemed to come alive, and it wasn't much later that Ogata had witnessed Shindou Hikaru do the same. 

For seven years, they had chased each other professionally, spurring each other onto new heights of development in their go skills. Privately though, Ogata was of the opinion that they had also helped each other grow into respectable adults. Of course, 'respectable' was a term that, when applied to Shindou Hikaru, had to be applied loosely. Nevertheless, Akira's seriousness and Shindou's boisterous personality tempered each other perfectly. 

But with the strangely domestic scene he had just witnessed, Ogata had to wonder whether their 'pursuit' of each other had reached an entirely different level. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Ogata-san?" 

Akira's question bringing him out of his silent contemplation, the blonde title holder gestured at the umbrella that he had placed on the coffee table. "I was asked to bring you your umbrella since Chitose doesn't know your address." 

"Oh... Thank you." Akira smiled, almost embarrasedly. "You needn't have gone to all the trouble." 

Ogata smirked. "Chitose also asked me to express her most sincere apologies for making you sick. Apparently, the man who picked up your phone yesterday wasn't very receptive to her profuse apologies." 

Akira frowned. "Shindou didn't tell me that..." 

At that little piece of information, Ogata raised a curious eyebrow. "Does Shindou visit often?" 

Smiling faintly, Akira replied, "Whenever he runs out of food. I seem to have become his emergency food supply." 

Ogata looked speculatively at the younger go pro, his smirk widening. "You know what they say about feeding strays Akira-kun. You'll have a hard time getting rid of him." 

"Unfortunately," Akira answered, now smiling fully, "I think it's already at a stage when I don't think I could get rid of him even if I wanted to." 

Sipping his tea, Ogata amusedly considered Akira's choice of words. Perhaps his earlier thoughts hadn't been too far off the mark. Not that he was terribly surprised. He of all people knew how hard it was to form long-term connections with people who didn't have the same depth of appreciation for the game he had dedicated his life to. 

Leaving his tea on the coffee table, he stood to leave, the knowing smirk never leaving his face. "Well. I'd better be going. You have your orders to be in bed after all." 

A hint of red appeared in Akira's cheeks as he walked the older man to the door. "Shindou over-reacts. I'm perfectly fine." 

"Even so," Ogata replied, "with the trip to Korea in a week, it's better not to take chances." 

Akira nodded. "I understand. Of course, please relay my thanks to Nakamura-san for dinner and her concern," he added with a perfectly polite smile. 

Probing Akira with another look, Ogata laughed quietly. "I'll see to it that Chitose doesn't bother you too much." 

Stunned, Akira blushed awkwardly. "Ummm... Thank you." 

~~ 

It always started out calmly, quietly, analytically. 

"That was a good move, but you tried too hard to rescue yourself here." 

"Mmm... what if I did this instead...?" 

"You'd still leave an opening here." 

"Yeah, but if you chose to go for that, then I'd be able to attack the upper right before you could consolidate." 

"No you wouldn't. The upper right's sufficiently defended here, here and here. You'd just be wasting your hands while I picked you apart." 

But there was always a point at which the neighbors, had they any idea of what went on, would have started thanking everything under the stars for their sound-proof walls and doors. 

This was evidently one of those points in time. 

"'Picked me apart'? No way! A cut right here," the gestures at the stones became more aggressive, "and you would have been forced to respond!" 

"Only if I was sleeping on the job! Any idiot can see that you're completely missing my attack here! I would have destroyed your shape in the matter of a few hands!" 

"Oh yeah?! Then what the hell do you think this is?! This stone's here for a reason ya know!!" 

Two teenaged boys sat across from each other in Touya Akira's apartment, a goban between them. With angry scowls on their faces and wild gestures at the stones on the board, they proceeded full steam into their habitual post-game 'discussion'. Given the childish words they were flinging at each other, if it weren't for the intricacy of the black and white patterns on the goban, nobody would have ever thought that these two were the rising stars of the professional go world. 

"See? There you go with your 'oh yeah??'s again!!" 

"I can't believe you would sit there and count my speech patterns!!" 

"I can't believe you could miss this move right here!!" 

"I did not miss that!!" 

"Yes you did!" 

"I did NOT!!" 

"Prove it!" 

Or ever mistaken them for professionals of any kind. 

Eyes blazing, they leaned forward with each new reply, attempting to shout the other down with absolutely no effect. 

"You are so infuriating!!" Hikaru yelled, throwing up his hands. 

"And what about you?!" Akira yelled back, narrowing his eyes. 

Electricity crackled along the locked gazes as neither boy showed any signs of backing down. The room was most likely only saved from instantaneous self-combustion by the ringing of the telephone. 

With a last glare at his rival, Akira pulled himself to his feet and strode purposefully past the other pro to the phone. He picked up only after taking a silent breath to compose himself. "Hello?" 

Hikaru returned the parting glare full measure, then turned his displeasure onto the goban in front of him. It had been close, but with a one and a half moku difference, it was once again a score in Akira's favor. Although he had to admit, he had dug himself a little too deep into the lower left and then had had trouble keeping control of the shape. Touya had recognised it for what it was and exploited the opening mercilessly. He was probably lucky to have gotten away without a much greater difference in territory. It was something he'd have to work on... 

Letting out a long breath, he slumped back onto his hands and stared up at the ceiling, keeping half an ear on his rival's conversation. 

"Yes. Yes I understand. That's fine. Thank you very much. I'll be down in a few minutes." 

Hearing the phone being hung up, Hikaru tilted his head back until he caught sight of a very upside-down Akira. "Time to go?" 

"Mmmm..." Akira replied in the affirmative, then allowed the corner of his lips to twitch up faintly. "You're going to get a headache doing that." 

Straightening up as Akira walked past him in the direction of the packed suitcase standing in the hallway to the front door, Hikaru grinned. "Nah... I've spent too much time in the playground for that to bother me." 

"Maybe we should get your nickname changed from 'idiot' to 'monkey boy'." 

Hikaru glared and rose to his feet after clearing the goban. "I am not an idiot!" 

Akira simply smirked in response. 

Following Akira and the suitcase to the door, Hikaru stuffed his hands into his pockets and his feet into his shoes. "So three weeks right?" 

"Mmmhmm..." Akira hummed, slipping on his own shoes then lifting the light suitcase out the door and towards the elevators, hitting the down button. 

Shutting Akira's apartment door after himself, Hikaru stepped up to wait next to his friend. "I'll remember to feed the fish... and water the plants." 

Akira cast a look at his rival out of the corner of his eye and smiled faintly. "You'd better," he threatened jokingly. "And try not to torch your own apartment either." 

Hikaru aimed a dirty look Akira's way just as the elevator dinged. 

Moving in, they stood side by side against the back wall. Both sets of eyes fixed on the flashing numbers above the doors as they waited for them to count down in comfortable silence. When the elevator reached the ground floor, the taxi was clearly visible through the glass doors of their apartment building. 

Hikaru waited on the sidewalk, hands in pockets and rocking on his feet, as Akira's suitcase was loaded into the trunk. "Say hi to Suyong for me. And tell Yongha that I'll kick his ass next time I see him." 

Akira smiled amusedly. "I'll see you when I get back." 

Nodding, Hikaru watched his rival slide into the backseat of the taxi. "Go kick some ass!" he called just before the door slammed. 

The window rolled down and Akira lifted a hand in a brief wave of acknowledgement and goodbye before the taxi pulled away from the curb. 

Eyes following the taxi until it turned into a side street and disappeared, Hikaru let out a breath. After kicking half-heartedly at an imaginary speck of dust on the sidewalk, he turned to walk back inside. 

The ride up in the elevator was oddly silent. When he let himself back into his own apartment, he kicked off his shoes and headed to the fridge for a can of soda. Popping it open, he took a swig as he wordlessly surveyed his sparsely furnished apartment. 

And for the first time since he'd moved in, it was beginning to seem strangely empty. 

* * *

**End Part 10... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** Really not much to say after this... ^^;;

Coming up: Akira in Korea

**Warnings:** The next part requires some knowledge of who Ko Yongha and Hong Suyong are. While details of the Hokuto Cup Arc would help, it's not necessary as I won't be covering what happened at the end. **There may be oblique references to events but no direct spoilers.** I apologise in advance for the inconvenience caused to any of the readers. 


	11. Part 11: Right Before my Eyes: I

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** Well... ^^;; I really don't know what to say except thank you to all those who waited patiently for this part to come out. I'm currently blaming school, a recent bout of Gundam Seed fanaticism and Akira's reluctance to see the truth for the delay *L*

To Dark Cyradis: yes, I am from down under ^_^  
To purple hotagi: no, the Hokuto Cup arc exists only in the manga  
And to Merellia: as to whether Waya would call Isumi-san "Isumi-san" during private moments... *sheepish smile* it's always been a funny issue with me because I tend to call Isumi "Isumi-san" *L* But aside from that, I can't really imagine Waya calling Isumi-san "Shinichirou" and I can't really imagine Isumi-san calling Waya "Yoshitaka" *sweatdrops* And as for the "-san" honorific, I'd imagine that they'd be getting over it soon, but for now, I'm gonna stick with the timeless adage that old habits die hard *grins* Look for references to their names in future chapters though ^_~

Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Since the original part 11 was much MUCH too long, I decided to split them up into halves (Part I and Part II). There is no doubt that this and the part after it were the hardest parts to write to date. Akira was happily oblivious, and writing those oblivious actions is much easier than trying to set his thoughts on the right track *L* This was the main reason for the numerous edits and re-writes that occurred for this part since I really wanted to keep Akira as in character (for BD) as I could and out of the realm of major angst (which I was EXTREMELY tempted to do ^_~ Me = angst writer at heart). As a result, I'm not really sure if I've actually succeeded ^^;;; guess it's up to you guys to tell me *L* So without further ado...

* * *

**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 11 - Right Before my Eyes ~ I ~**

Two weeks into his stay in Korea, Akira was seriously becoming homesick. This was not to say that he wasn't enjoying his trip. To the contrary, studying with all the top Korean pros and kenkyuusei at the Korean Go Institute had been an extremely fascinating and educational experience. It was only when he returned to his hotel room at the end of every day that thoughts of home bombarded his otherwise occupied mind. 

He missed the quiet comfort of his apartment. While the hotel room was certainly more than adequate for his current needs, it still wasn't a place where he felt comfortable padding around in less than formally presentable attire. He missed genuine Japanese food. Home-delivered sushi and okonomiyaki and, dare he think it, even Shindou's ramen. 

But most of all, he missed just being Touya Akira. Over the years, since Shindou had breezed into his life, he had begun to distinguish Touya Akira, the boy, from Touya 6-dan, the go pro. 

Touya 6-dan was infallibly polite, calm, focused and impervious; yet he was also possessed of a ruthlessness on the goban that very few could ever hope to match. Touya 6-dan could intimidate opponents from across the board with a simple look. Touya 6-dan was the face he showed the outside world, the flawless professional inside the body of a mere teenage boy. 

Touya Akira, on the other hand, *was* that boy. Touya Akira enjoyed sleeping in when the opportunity arose. Touya Akira was the one stumbling around the apartment in the morning still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he tries and fails to avoid crashing into the furniture. Touya Akira revelled in the immaturity of the insults he and Shindou flung at each other on a daily basis. Touya Akira was more than that flawless professional he presented to the outside world. 

Unfortunately, Touya Akira also had no place here in Korea among all the people that admired and sought to challenge his professional strength. It wasn't the first time since Shindou had appeared in his life that he'd wondered how he had ever survived those fledgling years when go had been the be-all and end-all of his life. It was, however, the first time that there had been no conceivable reprieve from the Touya 6-dan mask; and after two weeks without the respite that being at home brought him while he was in Japan and among friends, especially Shindou, the strain was undeniably taking its toll. 

Walking into the Korean Go Institute on the morning of the start of his last week in Korea, Akira mentally steeled himself. After a whirlwind of planned activities and games for the last two weeks, today was meant to have been a free day for him. With nothing scheduled, he'd been informed that he was free to tour the city or any of the popular tourist destinations if he so wished. Nevertheless, he'd found himself back here at the Go Institute, looking for a free goban on which to recreate some games and regain some mental balance. 

As he made his way over to the public playing rooms, a comment from behind him stopped him in his tracks. 

"Touya Akira. Fancy meeting you here." 

Akira turned and smiled a polite acknowledgement at the tall pro with long auburn hair. "Ko Yongha, it's nice to see you again." 

The Korean pro sauntered up casually, a faint arrogant twist playing on his smile as he nodded. "It's been a while. Your Korean is improving." The lazy grin that was Ko Yongha's trademark widened. "Care for a game? If you have time, of course." 

Eyes hardening at the subtle challenge, Akira's smile was considerably cooler when he replied, "Lead the way." 

After several meetings during the first and subsequent Hokuto Cup tournaments, strong ties had formed between the top young members of the Japanese, Korean and Chinese professional go worlds. Since all three teams had attended the rematch between Shindou and Hong Suyong after the first Hokuto Cup, it had been a tacit agreement by the team managers that the opportunity for their top young players to pit themselves against their foreign counterparts was too good to pass up. As a result, it had almost become a tradition for the visiting teams to delay their return to their home countries after the Hokuto Cup by a few days in order to take advantage of said opportunity. 

During these periods of intense concentration and game play, a healthy dose of respect had been nurtured between all those who participated. While some bonds had strengthened into that of friendship, such as that between Hikaru and Suyong, the same could not be said of Ko Yongha. Evidently, the volatile events of the first Hokuto Cup would not be so easily forgotten. 

Studying his opponent as they sat down in a discreet corner of the almost empty public playing room, Akira deduced that the Korean 6-dan hadn't changed much, appearance wise, from the last time they'd played each other more than a year and a half ago. Only the pending game would tell of any changes in his skills. 

Being a year older, Yongha hadn't been eligible for this year's Hokuto Cup, ending the annual Shindou Hikaru and Ko Yongha showdown that had been a main attraction at previous tournaments. But while Akira had never played the auburn-haired Korean professionally, there had been plenty of chances to gauge each other's strength at the matches following the Hokuto Cup. 

A few years ago, many reporters and go fans had frequently speculated that a rivalry between Touya Akira and Ko Yongha would have been even more spectacular than the acknowledged one that existed between the former Meijin's son and Shindou Hikaru. At the time, Akira had conceded that he and Ko Yongha were, indeed, closer in strength than he and Shindou had been. However, he had also recognised that if they had become rivals, he and Ko Yongha would only ever be able to push each other so far. They were extremely competitive, but they were not rivals. 

While Akira was never as arrogant or openly cocky as Yongha liked to appear in public, it was obvious from both experience and kifu that they shared the same relentlessly aggressive attitude in their pursuit of the win and the same uncompromising confidence in their own abilities. It was that similarity in their playing styles that made them poor rivals compared to Shindou's innovation and razor-sharp creativity. 

To an extent, Akira knew that Yongha recognised it too. Why else would the Korean pro doggedly provoke Shindou at every opportunity each time they encountered the other, if not in the hope that Shindou would get aggravated enough to accept the challenge? 

It was a process that Akira had always felt strangely smug about not having to go through, every time he wanted to play Shindou. 

Settling quickly into the game, Yongha having taken black, fuseki came and went in the blink of an eye, both of them eager to begin the battle. As the middle game progressed, they found themselves in an arduous struggle for the lower left, the territory having proven itself to be crucial in the outcome of the game. 

Akira studied the board, his face a mask of fierce concentration. He was at a slight disadvantage that would become fatal if he failed to make it up before yose. Like many higher 'dan's, Ko Yongha's yose techniques were flawless; to hope for a mistake during yose to make up the difference was to severely underestimate the Korean pro. 

Rapidly considering and subsequently discarding possible moves in his head, Akira's winter blue eyes were soon unerringly drawn to one inconspicuous intersection of lines. It was not a move that most would contemplate; yet intuition and experience gleaned from hundreds of games told him that it was the move best suited to his purpose. With a distinct 'pa-chi', he laid his white stone down decisively, eyes never leaving the board. 

Ko Yongha eyed the new stone on the board with caution. It was a move he had anticipated but dismissed for its inefficiency. He had expected Touya to extend white's reach into the right and in the same move set up the foundations for an attack on black's loose shape in that area. Instead, the Japanese pro had simply chosen to defend against black's threat from the center. 

The deceptively simple appearance of the move was what made it dangerous. And though Yongha was ahead, the lead was so small that the tiniest measure of complacency could tip the scales in the Japanese pro's favor. But no matter how far ahead he read, he had yet to see another purpose for the move and so opted to extend his lead rather than contest that one stone. 

As the black stone made contact with the board, Akira allowed himself a tiny mental smile of satisfaction. Outwardly, he merely picked up a stone and continued to press, knowing that the end was in sight. 

~~ 

"I resign." 

"Thank you for the game." 

With a low exhale, both players leaned back in their seats, eyes fixed on the final pattern of black and white. 

"You've improved," Yongha commented. 

"Thank you," Akira replied with a nod of acknowledgement and a faint smile; coming from Ko Yongha, it was high praise indeed. "You too. It was a tough game, as always." 

Amber-brown eyes continued to scan the board as Yongha's lips turned up in amusement. "You and Shindou are beginning to rub off on each other, though I suppose it was inevitable." 

Akira raised a politely inquisitive eyebrow, not at all surprised that Shindou had come up in the course of conversation. To date, Shindou had never failed to show up in any of their conversations. "How so?" 

"This move here," Yongha said, gesturing to a particular stone, "is more reminiscent of his style than your customary aggressiveness." 

Inspecting the stone and recalling the move that had placed it there, Akira smiled wryly. "As you said, perhaps it was inevitable given how often we play each other." 

Gazing steadily into midnight-blue eyes for a moment at that remark, Yongha smirked before returning his eyes to the goban. "Actually, I'm surprised that he didn't come with you on this trip, given the way you two are attached at the hip and all." 

A blink was all the surprise Akira allowed himself at this turn in the topic of conversation. "Excuse me?" 

Yongha lifted his eyes leisurely, subtly letting his companion know that he was continuing this conversation only because he felt like it. From anyone else, it would have been a blatant insult, yet for Ko Yongha, it was simply a part of his character. But that didn't mean Akira had to like it. 

"Suyong told me that you two had moved in together." 

Akira frowned as he stated matter-of-factly, "We don't live together." 

Yongha smirked. "My apologies. I believe Suyong's words were, and I quote, 'They've moved in next to each other, but from what I saw, they might as well be living together.'" 

The inconspicuous narrowing of wintery midnight blue eyes was the only sign of Akira's veiled irritation at the Korean pro treading into unwelcome territory. His voice was, to the contrary, completely nonchalant as he replied, "Suyong is, of course, entitled to his opinion, however incorrect he may be." 

Leaning back into his seat, Yongha laughed quietly as he regarded Akira in amusement; almost like a spider that was content to sit back and watch its prey struggle in the confines of its web simply because it knew that those struggles were futile. "You'd be surprised at how correct he can be at times." 

"Really." It wasn't a question, but a succinct statement that embodied Akira's increasing ire and conveyed a tacit recommendation that the current conversation be put to a halt as soon as civilly possible. 

Needless to say, the confident Korean pro felt no compunction to follow such advice. 

"Suyong's a perceptive kid. He sees a lot of things that most people don't. And not *just* on the go board either." Yongha raised an auburn eyebrow meaningfully, practically taunting Akira into responding to the implications of that statement. 

Avoiding the taunt gracefully, as he would any other trap on the go board, Akira simply said, "Shindou and I are friends. Nothing more, nothing less." 

Yongha smiled knowingly. "Not comfortable talking about it, are you?" The brazen grin was accompanied by an elegant shrug, though his eyes never left Akira's. "Though I can't say that I'm actually surprised. Like I said, it was probably inevitable, given that you two were always more considerate and affectionate than simple rivals or friends would be." 

In response, Akira smiled with a customary gentility that somehow didn't make it into his eyes. "Given that you haven't seen us in more than a year, I wouldn't think that you'd be in a position to make that sort of judgement, Yongha." 

"I don't have to be," Yongha returned easily, waving the statement away with a careless hand. "It was obvious enough the last time I was in Japan. By now, you could probably finish each other's sentences if you wanted to. The same way you can imitate each other's go." He flashed that lazy smile again, his tone of voice light. "Believe me, sometimes it's almost nauseating how in tune with each other you both are. 

"But of course, you don't have to take my word for it." That statement was conceded almost graciously with a fluid roll of Yongha's shoulders. "I suspect that your Isumi 5-dan could probably tell you the same thing." Flickering the briefest of sly smiles up at the Japanese pro, Yongha centered his attention on returning the scattered black stones to his go-ke. 

Hands moving of their own accord and out of pure habit to gather his own white stones, Akira frowned inwardly. But before he could reply, the Korean pro had already risen from his seat with a satisfied grin. 

"While I'd love to stay and chat, I'm afraid that I'll be late for my appointment. Of course, give my regards to Shindou." 

Akira nodded amicably as he stood up as well, giving no outward sign of his puzzled thoughts or irritation but for the hard light in his eyes. "Shindou asked me to relay his regards as well." 

Yongha smirked. "I'm sure he did, but perhaps in not such polite terms." Chuckling to himself, the Korean performed the traditional courtesy bow with his customarily subtle yet distinctive flair. "As always, it's been a pleasure." 

"Likewise," Akira said, returning the gesture. 

As he walked to the door, Yongha turned his head to shoot a parting comment over his shoulder. "Try not to miss him too much." Then with a last smug smile and an insolent wave, he was out the door. 

Tracking his opponent's exit until he disappeared from view, Akira sighed and shook his head discreetly as he re-seated himself. It was evident from that exchange that while Ko Yongha's skills on the goban had improved a great deal, his mannerisms still left a lot to be desired. Not unlike the display in the first Hokuto Cup, the Korean still possessed that same urge to 'stir the pot'; so supremely confident in his own abilities to weather any resulting storms that he was happy to sit back, relax and watch the show unfold. 

It was the aspect of Ko Yongha's personality that Shindou loathed with a vengeance. And after today, Akira had to admit that he wasn't so fond of it either. Especially when it was directed at his personal life. 

Shaking his head once more, he resolutely pushed the unproductive thoughts away and concentrated on the goban in front of him. Placing both go-ke beside himself, Akira began laying the stones in the pattern of yesterday's exhibition game. He had won by six and a half moku, yet it had been a narrow escape in his eyes. Mentally going over the game later in the solitude of his hotel room had revealed an opening which he was positive Shindou would have jumped all over had it been the bleached-blonde who sat in the opposite chair. 

_"How the hell could you have missed that opening there?! All he would have had to do was play a stone here and black would have ruined that shape in less than ten hands!"_

The scathing comment would have been accompanied by emphatic gestures at the place in question while Shindou's eyes flashed with irritation. 

Unbidden, the corner of Akira's lips twitched at the image as he laid the black stone on the point in question. He scanned the board again, noting the way in which Shindou would have taken advantage of white's weak outline. It was a thought process that had almost become ingrained when he was going over games by himself. 

Moving to counter-attack, Akira played the next few hands without interruption. Yet as new positions and combinations were tried and countered, it became painfully apparent that the mistake he had made in overlooking that opening would have been a fatal one had he made it during a game with his rival. 

Akira shook his head wryly. He could almost hear Shindou's half-accusing and half-concerned voice in his head at such an uncharacteristic blunder. 

_"Did you hit your head or something?! You never make a mistake like this! Get your head out of the clouds stupid!"_

And his own reflex retort. 

_"I am NOT stupid!"_

Had they been playing in his father's go salon, they would have both stood up, slammed both hands down on the table and got in each other's faces as the insults continued to fly. At least until Shindou pushed back his chair and with a loud "I'm leaving!" stalked out of the go salon at an angrily exaggerated stride. 

Akira laughed inwardly. It probably would have been a 'discussion' worthy of giving the ever-cheerful Ichikawa-san a headache, even considering how accustomed she must have become to their arguments. 

Had they been playing at home however, the argument would have eventually just simmered down and disappeared completely once one of them left his seat to fetch drinks or snacks. They had worked out fairly early on since they'd started playing in each other's apartments that it wasn't really appropriate for Shindou to stalk out every time they argued; which was also every time they played. This was especially so when it meant that Shindou would sometimes be stalking out of his own apartment. 

Unable to keep the smile from his lips, Akira remembered the first time they'd argued after playing a game in Shindou's apartment. After his rival's ritual leaving and slamming the door routine, he'd sat at the goban still in the middle of his rival's living room and blinked. But as per the routine, he'd begun the process of clearing the board to prepare for his own exit. Just as he'd finished however, there'd come a knock on the door. 

When he'd gotten up to open it, there stood a red-faced Shindou Hikaru who'd stammeringly admitted to having left his keys in the apartment. The episode had ended with him smirking in amusement while the bleached-blonde continued to scowl at him from the other side of the threshold. Then both of them had burst into laughter and Shindou walked into his own apartment with an embarrassed hand tangled in his blonde bangs. 

That had been the first time they'd broken their established post-game routine. Nowadays, Shindou was much more likely to simply quieten down and ask him what was wrong after the obligatory irritation and half-accusations. 

It was somehow almost uncanny the way his rival could read him like an open book; knowing without asking when something was bothering Akira or simply when Akira just wanted a quiet, soothing silence as opposed to their usual banter. But then, by the same token, Akira had to admit that he probably knew Shindou just as well. Such as the fact that there was always a week before Boy's Day when a cloud seemed to shadow the usually bright green eyes. It was then that the fan, which usually only appeared during Shindou's pro matches, never left his rival's side. 

He supposed that it was just a side effect from having been friends for so long. 

//By now, you could probably finish each other's sentences if you wanted to. The same way you can imitate each other's go. Believe me, sometimes it's almost nauseating how in tune with each other you both are.// 

Akira started as Yongha's words surfaced in his mind, almost making him drop the black stone he hadn't realized he was still holding. Fumbling with it, he shook himself back to reality and trained his eyes back onto the goban. But the distraction was enough that perhaps for the first time in his life since he'd started playing go, he failed to see anything but black and white dots scattered on a wood-grained backdrop. 

Brow furrowing as he focused his concentration on the board, the black and white dots were finally beginning to coalesce into the recognisable shapes he'd been creating when another memory derailed his thoughts. 

//They've moved in next to each other, but from what I saw, they might as well be living together.// 

Sighing, Akira slumped back into his seat and decided to call it a day. There was obviously no more concentration to be had while he sat at this table when Yongha's words were still floating in his head. Especially, he thought ruefully, when even his thoughts were beginning to take on the Korean pro's irritatingly smug tone. 

Carefully replacing the stones back into their respective containers, the Japanese pro gently pushed out of his seat and made his way to the doors. Stepping out into the chilly mid-December weather, Akira shook his head at himself in mild disgust at letting Yongha's words throw him off his concentration. 

While he certainly wasn't as worldly as other young men his age, it didn't mean that he was completely clueless about such matters. He understood exactly what it was that the Korean pro had been insinuating about his relationship with his rival. After all, he'd taken the relationship between Isumi-san and Waya fully in stride and with no real surprise, hadn't he? 

But to shine that kind of a light on his and Shindou's friendship was an idea so preposterous that it shouldn't bear any more thought than the conversation had already entailed. They were simply nothing like Isumi-san and Waya. For one thing, he'd never seen Isumi-san and Waya argue half as much or as heatedly as he and Shindou did. 

So then the question was: why did the idea niggle insistently at the back of his mind like a move that was just waiting to be tested out on the goban? So much so that he was unable to concentrate until he'd worked it through? 

Lost in his thoughts, Akira absently tucked his hands into his coat pockets to avoid the wind and slowly began the walk back to the hotel. 

It was true that he and Shindou were good friends. Akira would probably even venture to say that they were the best of friends, given the time they'd spent with each other over the seven years of their acquaintance. They certainly hadn't exactly understood each other very well when they'd first met, each of them standing in a completely different world to the other. One of them a typical twelve-year-old boy, the other the prodigy son of a world-renowned go master. Yet somehow they'd latched onto the other as firmly as Akira had latched onto Shindou's wrist on that fateful day seven years ago, and then pulled and bullied and chased each other until they'd arrived at where they were today. 

With a smile that was instinctive, Akira recalled that day when he had first confronted Shindou in front of a subway station and challenged him to a game. He could still clearly remember Shindou's offhand remarks about becoming a go pro and his own heated replies. He remembered offering his hand to the bleached-blonde boy as he issued the challenge. Then as the sky opened up and the rain drenched everything still standing in the streets, he hadn't waited for an answer before snatching Shindou's wrist and dragging him back into the subway station. 

Almost in answer to his thoughts, thunder rumbled overhead seconds before the first raindrops began to stain the pavement. Chancing a look upwards at the sky, Akira grimaced at the dark clouds before he was forced to sprint for the shelter of the awning of a nearby apartment building. 

As the spackle of raindrops became a steady shower, Akira huddled under his dubious shelter and rolled his eyes at himself. Sometimes, it seemed that he had the worst luck with rain. He ran a hand over his hair in the futile hopes of removing the worst of the moisture, peering out into the sudden gloom that had enveloped the street. It didn't look as if the rain would let up anytime soon and waiting here was simply not a good idea when it was getting colder and windier by the minute. 

Understandably, he was not amused at having a sense of déjà vu wash over him. Firstly, he definitely didn't enjoy being sick, and secondly, Shindou would kill him if he managed to return from Korea with another case of the cold. But unless he was prepared to stand here and be battered by the growingly slanted rain until whoever was upstairs saw fit to decide that they'd had enough fun at his sodden expense -- which didn't look likely either -- he had no choice but to make a dash for the hotel. 

Looking heavenward once more, Akira whispered a single prayer of thanks that his hotel was at least closer from his current shelter than his apartment had been from the restaurant. 

* * *

**End Part 11... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** Firstly, don't lynch me for leaving it there *L* This next part is meant to be read as the direct continuation of this so this part is essentially unfinished -- which explains the lack of plot development ^^;; And secondly, the second half is written and in its last stages of editing so it WILL be out soon *L*

For those who are interested in my portrayal of Ko Yongha, the spider reference probably describes my impression of him most effectively (see Chapter 175-177 of the manga) ^_^ I simply see him as an extremely observant, confident and antagonistic character but essentially without any ill intentions. Not the most likable of characters but an interesting character to write nonetheless *L* And as for Akira -- well... this is the side of him that we don't see when he's interacting with Hikaru ^_^ The boy's still got quite a bit of bark and bite left in him (though he's about as dense as a log ^^;;) -- even if I do tend to portray him like a puppy most of the time *grins*

Coming up: The conclusion to "Right Before my Eyes". And Hikaru makes a cameo!! ^^;;; sorta... I love them too much to separate them for too long *L* 


	12. Part 12: Right Before my Eyes: II

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** *L* Firstly as always, thank you to everybody who takes the time out of their busy schedules to read and review. It means a lot to me that people are enjoying this fic ^_^ Secondly, I make no excuses for the delay in posting this part since in the time between now and when the last part was posted, this part has undergone yet another extensive re-write ^^;;; I dunno, I just couldn't get Akira's character down enough to suit the fangirl in me *L* In any case, I'm much happier with this version than the previous one ^_^

Special thanks go out to Ju and Summercloud for picking up my grammar mistakes in the last part *bows* Part 11 has been re-uploaded with the corrections.

And finally to Zak who was worried that this fic would end too soon ^^;; Frankly speaking, when I started this fic, the plan was for a three to four part-er. There was never any intention on my part to write another epic (especially given that most of my epics tend to be left unfinished *cringe*), not to mention what is essentially a fluffy epic. Unfortunately (or fortunately as the case may be *L*), Akira and Hikaru had different ideas and I love them too much to hurry them into anything they don't-want/aren't-ready to do ^_^ So rest assured, the fic will end in due time and there will be ample warning before it does *L* I'm not about to pull a Hotta-sensei/Obata-sensei and just announce the end of the fic in one little line at the bottom *LOL*

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 12 - Right Before my Eyes ~ II ~**

Towel in hand, Akira was vigorously rubbing it through his wet hair when he stepped out of the bathroom. A quick, hot shower had erased most of the chills that had been the outcome of his unintentional and cold drenching on the way back, but he moved to the climate control anyway and turned on the heat. 

He wasn't about to take any chances with another bout of the cold. After the last lecture his rival had given him about running through the rain, he really didn't want to think about what Shindou would have to say about it a second time. Nor did he want to give Shindou any more access to his kitchen than he absolutely had to. 

Akira smiled a little as he made his way to the small electric kettle seated on top of the bar fridge and poured himself a cup of tea. While torching his own kitchen had been a very real danger for his rival a few months ago, it had really just become more of a point for good-natured ribbing than anything else. Of course, Shindou hadn't really tried to cook anything else since his first and last spectacular failure but the soup hadn't actually been all that bad. Even if it was instant. 

Chuckling under his breath, Akira shook his head at the memory. And of course, only Shindou could manage to burn his fingers on toast. It only made the fact more laughable when you considered that it certainly wasn't the first, second or third time that he'd managed to do so. 

Sipping at his tea, eyes still twinkling from mirth, Akira perched himself on the edge of the bed as he stared out the window into the wet and dreary world outside. If he was honest with himself, as far as being sick went, the last time was far from his worst experience. And if he was even more honest with himself, he'd admit that despite being an extremely independent and private person, having someone there to take care of him certainly hadn't been a bad experience at all. 

Still staring into the gray nothingness outside the window, the expression on Akira's face was soft in reminiscence. Unbidden, his mind pulled up the image of his rival, fast asleep, blonde bangs falling into his face as he was slumped against the side of Akira's bed. It was followed by the warmth of Shindou's hand on his forehead as his rival checked his temperature, and then worried green eyes staring into his own as he'd swayed from a sudden rush of blood to his head. 

//You two were always more considerate and affectionate than simple rivals or friends would be.// 

Jolted out of his thoughts, Akira frowned. But the red blinking light on the hotel room answering machine in his peripheral vision saved him from further pondering Yongha's unwelcome and yet strangely unsettling comments. Absently, he reached over to press the play button. 

"Hey Touya!" 

Akira tore his eyes from his tea to the answering machine at the sound of that familiar voice. 

"They told me that it's your day off today, but it figures that you'd still have gone to the go salon or wherever it is over there that you go to play go. You are such a go freak!" 

Though he knew it was totally inappropriate, he still couldn't help but throw an amused but pointed glare at the machine, as if to say to the owner of the voice 'As if you aren't?!'. 

"Anyway, since I'm pretty sure that you haven't checked what day it is today, happy birthday! As your 'senpai'," there was a snicker, "I welcome you to the world of being nineteen." 

That had Akira swivelling his gaze to the desktop calendar only to notice that, yes, today was indeed December the 14th, and that, yes, he had forgotten that today was his own birthday. The fight to squash the rising blush was thankfully aided by the mild indignation that Shindou had had the gall to refer to himself as Akira's 'senpai'. 

Hikaru's cheeky grin was still evident in his voice as it continued. "You know that this is the third year in a row you've managed to forget your own birthday, right? Must be getting old." 

Akira gave a little light-hearted snort at the teasing jab. 

"Other than that, just called to tell you that all your plants and fish are still alive and kicking." Then the voice turned sarcastic and Akira could just imagine Shindou's nose wrinkling as he emphasised, "And no, my kitchen has not been destroyed yet, thanks a lot for asking!" 

Seated on his bed, Akira had to laugh, even as he felt the tension that he hadn't even been aware of melt from his slender frame. 

"Speaking of kitchens, I hope you don't mind that I've been raiding yours since you've got a fully stocked one and I keep forgetting to do groceries. Why do you have a fully stocked kitchen anyway? You're not even here." 

Rolling his eyes at that last statement, Akira shook his head in affectionate exasperation. Only Shindou could refer to a kitchen with nothing but instant foods as 'fully stocked'. And the only reason he had stocked his kitchen with instant foods before leaving was because he had fully expected his rival to forget to buy groceries. Raiding his kitchen was obviously the next best option to actually having him there to provide meals. 

"Everything else on this end is okay, but they're just not the same when you're not here. It's quieter for one thing! I think Ichikawa-san almost had a heart attack the other day when I actually left the go salon without screaming once." 

Akira joined in the mirthful chuckles coming from the answering machine as he imagined the scene in his head. The go salon would certainly be quieter without their arguments; and he had often surmised that Ichikawa-san was more used to the shouting than having silence anytime he and Shindou were in the vicinity. 

"Okay, I'd better get going. Got study group in an hour or so and since Isumi-san's been out of town for the last three days for a game, Waya's been brooding a little coz he misses him. Don't tell Waya I said that! He'll kill me if he finds out that I used his name and 'brood' in the same sentence." 

Akira snickered a little at the thought. 

"But Isumi-san gets back tomorrow and we're heading out to the arcade to get together celebrate his win the day after. Wish you could be here. You're still coming home Sunday morning right? So take care of yourself and I'll see you at home in a few days!" 

The machine clicked off, leaving Akira still sitting on his bed staring out into the gray city skyline only now with bright eyes and a gentle smile lingering over his lips. He wished he could be there too. Hearing Hikaru's voice had inexplicably soothed the uneasiness that had settled over him in the last week or so, leaving Akira more relaxed than he had ever been since arriving in Korea. Yet at the same time, it also amplified the feeling of homesickness, elevating his anxiousness to be back in Japan and among friends. 

Idly, he wondered whether Isumi-san was currently feeling as homesick as he was. Granted, at least Isumi-san was still in the same country as the others and hadn't been away for half as long as he had. But it couldn't be easy being away from Waya for more than a few days; those two had hardly left each other's side since that trip to China a year ago. Even before the trip, when they'd decided to move into a larger place together rather than live in their own separate tiny apartments, they'd hardly let the other out of their sight. 

It was a topic that his rival had speculated with him on over many shared dinners, usually after having met up with both Isumi-san and Waya during the day. Before their trip to China, Waya's 'broodiness' had been the subject of many conversations, while after the trip, the conversations had changed to amused comments over Waya's 'possessiveness'. Since then, Waya's 'broodiness' had only ever been discussed in relation to times when Isumi-san had to travel out of town, and said 'broodiness' would only ever be temporarily lifted whenever Isumi-san found the time to call from wherever he was. 

Akira chuckled softly under his breath. It was best not to think about what Waya would do to each of them if he happened to discover that they talked about him so often behind his back. 

Isumi-san on the other hand... Akira had a feeling that the older pro wouldn't be surprised to know that he and Hikaru talked about them behind their backs. While he and Hikaru had never deliberately revealed that they knew the nature of the relationship Isumi-san and Waya shared, Akira suspected that the taller man already knew that they knew. It certainly explained why Isumi-san had never been more discreet about the whole thing when it was just the four of them as opposed to bigger group outings. 

Isumi-san had always been extremely perceptive. 

//...you don't have to take my word for it. I suspect that your Isumi 5-dan could probably tell you the same thing.// 

Irritated with the way Yongha's words re-surfaced time and again in his mind, Akira made a final effort to put them into perspective the most effective way he knew how -- the same way he approached any tsumego problem: by first laying it out and then examining his options. 

He wouldn't refute that Isumi-san was exceptionally observant. He also wouldn't refute that Isumi-san was probably more mature and worldly than any of them. But surely, Isumi-san didn't think that he and Shindou shared the same type of relationship he and Waya did... 

And yet his memory told him that Isumi-san had a tendency to look curiously from him to Shindou every time the older pro managed to catch one of Akira's glances at him and Waya. His memory also told him that it had been happening a lot more often lately. 

One such time had been right after he'd recovered from that cold. 

Fending off Shindou's attempts to threaten and manhandle him into silence, Waya had gleefully told him that Shindou had been worried out of his mind when he'd failed to show up on time. While the brown-haired pro was busy likening his rival's antics to a headless chicken over Shindou's vehement denials, Isumi-san had simply stood to one side, smiling indulgently as his eyes moved assessingly over Hikaru's bouncing form and Akira's flushed but amused face. 

Brow furrowing in thought, Akira reached up to brush his still damp bangs from his eyes. But as his fingers brushed his skin, he was once again reminded of Shindou's warm hand on his forehead. Only this time, he could recall that fleeting sense of loss when the comforting warmth had slid away. 

//You two were always more considerate and affectionate than simple rivals or friends would be.// 

Watching his rival sleep slumped next to his bed after an overnight vigil before carefully tucking a blanket over the sprawled form to guard against the morning chill. 

Bumping noses as they both stood at the same time and then the irrational blush that he'd had to fight to suppress. 

Icy fingers brushing against his own as a white paper bag was handed over, to which he had answered by pressing a mug of steaming tea into his rival's hands. 

And the little things, like how they kept their apartments stocked with each other's favorite foods. Akira blinked as he realised that no matter how forgetful his rival was about grocery shopping, there was always a chilled can of Akira's favorite Oolong tea waiting for him in Shindou's fridge. 

//Believe me, sometimes it's almost nauseating how in tune with each other you both are.// 

Hikaru flopping bonelessly to the floor, pinning him with assessing eyes as he deduced the reason for Akira's distraction before even Akira had. _You know, if you really don't want to go tomorrow, you should just tell her._

Hikaru's laughing voice on the answering machine, knowing without a trace of doubt that he'd been at a go salon instead of the many tourist destinations his liaison had suggested. 

And the last time May 5th had started creeping up on them, amidst preparations for their last Hokuto Cup tournament... He had silently watched his rival shuffle over to the window of his apartment after an uncharacteristically quiet dinner, the fan clutched tightly in his fist. Though Shindou had stared into the darkness outside for an inordinately long time, Akira just knew that his rival couldn't see anything except the memories that were playing out inside his head. 

After a few minutes, Akira had wrenched his eyes from his rival to pull out his goban. Seating himself quietly and beginning to re-create one of the hundreds of Shuusaku's distinctive games, he had patiently waited for his rival to succumb to the temptation of the stones. The process had become an almost tacit tradition every time Boys' Day approached. And true to form, it wasn't long before Shindou had seated himself opposite Akira just as quietly, to appropriate one of the go-ke as his own. Curiously, not once had Shindou ever appropriated the stones that Shuusaku had played for the chosen game. 

There had been no talk as the game was played out, each of them falling into Shuusaku's brilliant mind. When the game was over, they'd looked up into each other's eyes and Shindou had offered a small, grateful smile. Akira had returned the soft smile and nodded back, glad that the shadows in the green eyes that stared back at him had been lifted, if only momentarily. 

But now he recalled the slight twinge in his chest as he'd stood there, gazing at the almost visible tension in Hikaru's slumped shoulders. And the relief that had spread through him when those green eyes finally stopped looking through him as they had during dinner, to see him for who he was. 

For the first time, as the memories presented themselves one by one in front of his mind's eye in the familiar form of black and white go stones, Akira was looking at his relationship with his rival from an objective stand point. And in a detached sort of way, he could understand why Yongha had said the things he did... 

But that didn't mean that they were true... right? 

//Try not to miss him too much.// 

Or were they? 

He couldn't deny that he missed his rival in the time that he'd spent in Korea. It would be stupid to do so when he had just felt the tension that had been there ever since he'd landed in Korea, melt away at the sound of Shindou's voice. But wasn't it normal for friends to miss each other when they'd been away for an extended period of time? 

Staring into the now cold tea in his hands, Akira turned that last thought over and over in his head until a recent memory re-surfaced in answer. 

_Since then, Waya's 'broodiness' had only ever been discussed in relation to times when Isumi-san had to travel out of town, and said 'broodiness' would only ever be temporarily lifted whenever Isumi-san found the time to call from wherever he was._

Akira's eyes widened as he acknowledged the similarities between that statement and his current situation. 

With that, the last stone slammed into position with a decisive 'pa-chi' to complete the formation on his mental goban. And suddenly everything -- from warm hands, to irrational blushes, to chilled cans of Oolong tea, and from Yongha's words, to Isumi-san's smiles and even Ogata-san's cryptic remarks -- began to make sense. 

Examining the completed board, it was almost impossible for him to contest the truth that stood glaring up at him from unmistakable patterns of black and white. The stones, each one a fragment of his memories, taunted him just as Ko Yongha had mere moments before, daring him to deny their existence and the feelings that came with them. Feelings that went far beyond any he had consciously allowed himself and yet had meticulously catalogued in the deepest recesses of his mind. Feelings that told him what he felt for his 'eternal' rival irrefutably wasn't as platonic as he had convinced himself they were. 

But he and Shindou?? 

Almost bewildered, Akira prodded at the notion in his mind, not knowing if he should have been surprised to find that there were no awkward feelings towards it. Instead, there was just a genuine warmth that radiated comfort, and a sense of contentment that brought an unconscious smile to his lips. It certainly felt more natural than any relationship he could ever imagine having with anybody else... 

With a painful grimace he remembered the mechanical conversations he'd held with Nakamura Chitose over dinner; all the while wishing that he'd been eating at his rival's favorite ramen stand instead, with Hikaru's laughing chatter carrying over the loud voices of all the other patrons in the background. 

Flipping through the mental scrapbook of memories, it just seemed so obvious now... Had he really been so blind as to have missed all the signs that what he shared with Shindou was much deeper than mere friendship and rivalry? And was it any wonder that almost everybody else who knew them had picked up on it? 

Lips twitching at the thought, Akira shook his head at himself before allowing the smile to slide over his features. 

More reminiscent of a mere rookie than the professional he was, it had taken the last stone for him to recognise that there'd been no conceivable way for him to win this particular game. Just as he'd been crushed by the overwhelming strength of that other Shindou the second time he'd met his rival, so too had he been crushed today by the undeniable force of his own memories. Both had shown him a truth about himself he'd, however unconsciously, sought to keep hidden. And yet today's revelations held none of the pain and disillusionment that had characterised that fateful day seven years ago. 

Today, there was only a weightless sensation, as if a great burden had been lifted from his chest, and an impression of wonder that was pure in every sense of the word. 

* * *

**End Part 12... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** *cheers* Yay~~ At least that's sense beaten into one of them!! *L* I'm very interested to hear anything anybody has to say about Akira's realisations ^_^

Coming up: *evil author grin* After beating sense into Akira, I'm looking forward to kicking Hikaru around for a bit *L* Also look for brief SumiWaya cuteness ^_^

The downside to all this is that finals have arrived *sighs* so I can't guarantee that the next part will be out any time in the very near future. And considering that Hikaru looks to be every bit as dense as Akira, I'm expecting the next part to be long enough to split into two as well. But we'll see how we go. My gratitude in advance for everybody's patience. 


	13. Part 13 teaser: As of yet untitled

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**Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.

**Notes:** *nervous wave* Hi... ^^;;; Yes, I'm still alive, though after half a year of no updates, I'm not sure how many of you would still believe it *L* Unfortunately, the rest of 13 is still being written as we speak (or rather, as I sit here and type ^^) so this is just a teaser ^^;; Note that it's an _extremely extremely_ rough draft subject to changing, re-writing, cleaning up and/or what not when the rest of it gets done, but please consider it a peace offering *L* BD **will** be finished! More notes afterwards, as per usual.

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
** by Shikami Yamino

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**Part 13 - [As of yet untitled] ~ teaser**

Not many people would have equated a bunch of professional go players with a video game arcade and gotten any kind of harmonious co-existence. After all, pro go players were more widely associated with the silence of places such as the Yuugen no Ma than the almost deafening sounds of electronic games and young people pounding at plastic keys to the cheering of their surrounding friends. Nevertheless the local arcade was the chosen place for the gathering of a number of the new wave of go pros. And with no ties or suits or magnetic go boards in sight, not many people would have picked them to be go players anyway, so society was free to amble happily along in its mistaken ways. 

Not that Waya Yoshitaka 5-dan actually gave a damn about society or its mistaken ways. He was currently concerned with more important matters. Like the elusive Naruto plushie that was being adamant in evading the claws of his UFO Catcher machine. 

With the tip of his tongue sticking out of the side of his lips, the brown-haired go pro's face was a mask of intense concentration as he carefully manipulated the keys to watch the claw descend over the object of his frustration. Then as the claws gripped and began to rise, the childishly hopeful expression on his face turned to one of dour aggravation. The drawn-on laughing eyes of the plushie seemed to almost mock him while the claw returned once again, unsurprisingly empty, to its base position. 

"ARGH!!" Throwing up his hands, Waya turned scornfully away from the machine to rake his brown gaze over the crowded arcade for any sign of his friends. 

Most of the old gang from the Insei classes had made it for the get together, which was rare considering their conflicting schedules. Only Ochi's presence would have made the gathering complete, the younger man having excused himself by reason of a prior commitment. Waya had simply rolled his eyes when he'd heard Ochi's excuse, surmising that the uptight little brat probably wouldn't know what to do with himself in an arcade anyway. 

There was Honda-san, who was currently duking it out with Fuku over the tennis game. From Fuku's gleeful expression and Honda-san's intent eyes on the screen, Waya gathered that the former was currently kicking the latter's ass. 

Moving on, his eyes picked out Isumi's familiar profile, straddled over the seat of one of the motorcycles. Waya smiled to himself as he admired the lean length of his lover's form, absently noting that it looked good seated almost expertly on a motorbike. It was good having him back, especially since the apartment had begun to feel too large and empty over the last few days. 

Seated next to Isumi, obviously racing on the same course, were Komiya, Nase and Iijima-san. Fuku had told him that Iijima-san quit being an Insei soon after the pro exam that had passed him, Shindou and Ochi. Funnily enough, it was only after Iijima-san had quit that he had muscled up the courage to ask Nase out for a date, despite having been Insei classmates for six years. Since then, they'd been a pretty steady item even though Iijima-san had chosen to continue with his studies while Nase successfully pursued her professional go career. 

A commotion to his left caught his eye and he looked over to see a laughing Fujisaki Akari attempt to draw her vigorously resisting boyfriend Mitani Yuuki onto the Dance Dance Revolution machine with her. From the sidelines, a cheeky Shindou Hikaru was loudly cheering Akari on, all the while making sure that he was safely out of her arm's reach. 

Sensing his approach, Shindou turned around and gave each of his hands a glance before grinning at him. "No luck?" he called over the music of the DDR machine. 

"Shut up," Waya growled at his friend good-naturedly. 

Laughing, Hikaru turned back to the spectacle Mitani was making of himself as he tried valiantly to free his hand from Akari's grasp, refusing to be pulled onto the platform. 

"Yuuki! Please!" Akari was pleading. 

"No, no and no!" Mitani answered with mild scowl. 

"Just once!" 

"No!" 

"For me?" 

As soon as Akari turned on the puppy-dog eyes, Hikaru knew that Mitani was a goner. The orange-haired boy could never resist Akari's puppy-dog eyes; had never been able to ever since she'd convinced him to remain at the Haze Junior High Go Club after Hikaru left. 

"Go Mitani!!" Hikaru couldn't resist shouting as his friend stepped reluctantly onto the platform. In return, he got a glare which promised direly that as soon as Mitani was able to get off this machine, he'd be out looking for Hikaru's blood. 

Well acquainted with Mitani's glares, Hikaru merely laughed the threat off, grinning as his friend went through the torturous process of song selection. He was just getting ready to make another comment at Mitani's expense when Akari's bright voice broke in. 

"Waya-kun will play with me after this, right?" Akari smiled winningly at the brown-haired pro before directing a pout Hikaru's way. "Hikaru threatened to run off if I even suggested it to him." 

Hikaru held up his hands, still chuckling, in the surrender position. "Hey, you've got Mitani! What do you need me for?" Then he turned a mischievous expression onto his brown-haired companion. "Waya might indulge you though." 

To the contrary, Waya was almost sweating at the suggestion. Needless to say, there was no conceivable way that he would ever willingly let himself be roped into playing a game like DDR. He looked around nervously for an exit before latching onto Shindou and hastily steering the bleached-blonde in the direction of a vacant King of Fighters machine. "Uhh, sorry Fujisaki, Shindou and me were just heading off to play a game." 

Resisting the pushing, Hikaru smirked knowingly over his shoulder at the older pro. "We were?" 

Chocolate brown eyes glared back at him with a sense of urgency. "Yes, we *were*." 

Hikaru snickered before acquiescing and tossing the other two a wave. "We'll see you two later." 

As soon as the two were out of sight of the DDR machine, Waya raised a hand to cuff his friend lightly in the back of the head. "Some friend you are! I'm gonna kick your ass!" 

"Ha!" Hikaru crowed, sitting down and shoving his ¥100 coin into the machine. "I'd like to see you try!" 

Waya's eyes narrowed. "This means war, Shindou!" 

"You're on!" 

~~ 

Several minutes and ¥100 coins later, amidst muttered curses and near-violent button bashing, Waya was ready to give up and accept the fact that today just wasn't his day. 

Hikaru, on the other hand, was having a ball as his on screen character engulfed Waya's in another fiery gout of flames. When the screen flashed white and the large "K.O." sign appeared, he threw up his arms in victory. "Yeah!! Take that!" He punched Waya's shoulder lightly and reflexively ducked the return blow. "Did you see that last combo?? That was great right?? I so kicked your ass!" 

Caught up in the moment, Hikaru laughed at Waya, who was rolling his eyes, before swivelling on his chair to look excitedly over his right shoulder. "What'd you think?? Pretty cool - " He cut himself off abruptly when he realised that no one was standing behind him to share his enthusiasm. 

Waya blinked at the sight of Shindou staring over his right shoulder almost in a state of stupor. Following his friend's line of sight and not seeing anything or anyone of interest, Waya frowned in mild concern. Shindou really hadn't been himself these last few days, constantly looking over his shoulder and then shaking himself with a rueful smile when he obviously didn't see what he'd been looking for. Normally, he'd have asked Touya about it, considering that if anyone knew what was wrong with Shindou, it was probably Touya. But since Touya wasn't here, it was slowly beginning to worry Waya. 

"Shindou. Oi Shindou! What're you looking at?" 

"Huh?" Hikaru turned back to Waya with still slightly glazed eyes until his brain was able to process the question. "Oh! Nothing. It was nothing. Don't worry about it!" Laughing a little, he raised a hand to wave off his friend's obvious concern. 

Waya didn't look convinced. "You sure?" 

"Yeah yeah! I'm fine! Don't worry!" He rose from his seat and turned towards the exit. "Hey, I'm gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?" At Waya's shake of the head, Hikaru shrugged. "Okay. I'll be right back!" With that, he was off striding towards the exit. 

Waya tracked his friend's departure with quizzical eyes before shaking his head again and getting to his feet to find his lover. Maybe Isumi-san would have some ideas about what was bugging their long time friend. 

~~ 

Absently punching a button on the vending machine, Hikaru bent to collect his drink as it clunked into the tray. He smiled a little as he popped the top and took a long sip, rolling his eyes at himself. 

It was almost funny how he kept expecting Touya to be standing behind him when he knew full well that his rival wasn't even in the country. Coming to the arcade just didn't feel the same without the other pro's feigned expression of suffering and raised eyebrow as if to say 'Remind me why I'm here again?' 

Hikaru chuckled under his breath at the thought, slumping to rest his weight against the wall beside the vending machine. Touya was never partial to coming to the arcade, preferring to watch whatever Hikaru was playing rather than wander off to play anything himself. He said it was a place where he felt distinctly out of his element, to which Hikaru had always snickered just loud enough to earn himself a hooded glare. 

But all that being said, his rival had never once refused to come when invited. And once Hikaru'd explained the controls, the dark-haired go pro was a speed demon on par with the best of them on the Daytona race track. It was getting to the point when racing Touya Akira was becoming synonymous with challenging him to go as a mere lower-dan -- ten to one odds said you were gonna get creamed. 

The only one who'd ever managed to come close or even beat Touya on occasion was Isumi-san. It was a fact which never failed to prompt Waya into grousing good-naturedly that it was *always* the quiet ones you had to watch out for. 

With a little wistful quirk of his lips, he idly wondered what his rival was doing right then. Knowing Touya though, most likely in his hotel room, still hunched over whatever game he'd played today. His rival was a go freak like no other. 

Except maybe Sai. 

Come to think of it, Sai had always been excited to come to the arcade. _"Look! Look! Hikaru! There are people dancing in this box! And it's snowing in the other one!"_ He'd always cheered whenever Hikaru played something, but would nevertheless be begging to go to a go salon soon after. _"Ne ne Hikaru! Let's play go! Hikaru~~"_

If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough, he could almost hear the last syllable of his name being dragged out as phantom arms with billowing sleeves encircled his neck. And the answering _"Wai!!"_ when he finally acquiesced. 

Sai's almost child-like enthusiasm toward go had always been able to bring a smile to Hikaru's face, however grudging it may have been. After all this time, the memory was no different, even if the smiles they induced were no longer the same. 

Nowadays, they were almost always bittersweet; sometimes a tad regretful, other times a touch guilty, but never as carefree as they had once been. 

* * *

**End Part 13 teaser... to be continued.**

**Author's Notes:** This teaser will be taken down and then incorporated into the finished part 13 when it is ready to be uploaded. As for Hikaru, suffice it to say that he has a few issues to work through before I'm ready to bring Akira back ^_^ At the present time, the May deadline for BD still stands (refer to the journal entry in my profile). Any changes to it will be updated in my profile.

Once again, thank you to everyone for your continued patience and support! 


	14. Part 13: Ghosts of the Past: I

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**  
Disclaimer:** All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author. 

**Notes:** Does anyone actually remember this story? If you do, I think I'm going to have to beg for your forgiveness /LOL/ Suffice it to say that a lot of things have eaten up my life between now and the last time I updated. Regardless, I've always maintained that BD remains one of the fics I intend to finish (someday). Everything is all planned out so neatly in my notes, I merely lack the time and occasionally the motivation/inspiration to write it all down coherently /sheepish/ So I guess as a gesture of goodwill, for those of you who haven't already seen this at my fic journal, here is the complete version of Part 13.

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**Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"  
**by Shikami Yamino

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Part 13 - Ghosts of the Past -- I --

Not many people would have equated a bunch of professional go players with a video game arcade and gotten any kind of harmonious co-existence. After all, pro go players were more widely associated with the silence of places such as the Yuugen no Ma than the almost deafening sounds of electronic games and young people pounding at plastic keys to the cheering of their surrounding friends. Nevertheless the local arcade was the chosen place for the gathering of a number of the new wave of go pros. And with no ties or suits or magnetic go boards in sight, not many people would have picked them to be go players anyway, so society was free to amble happily along in its mistaken ways.

Not that Waya Yoshitaka 5-dan actually gave a damn about society or its mistaken ways. He was currently concerned with more important matters. Like the elusive Naruto plushie that was being adamant in evading the claws of his UFO Catcher machine.

With the tip of his tongue sticking out of the side of his lips, the brown-haired go pro's face was a mask of intense concentration as he carefully manipulated the keys to watch the claw descend over the object of his frustration. Then as the claws gripped and began to rise, the childishly hopeful expression on his face turned to one of dour aggravation. The drawn-on laughing eyes of the plushie seemed to almost mock him while the claw returned once again, unsurprisingly empty, to its base position.

"ARGH!" Throwing up his hands, Waya turned scornfully away from the machine to rake his brown gaze over the crowded arcade for any sign of his friends.

Most of the old gang from the Insei classes had made it for the get together, which was rare considering their conflicting schedules. Only Ochi's presence would have made the gathering complete, the younger man having excused himself by reason of a prior commitment. Waya had simply rolled his eyes when he'd heard Ochi's excuse, surmising that the uptight little brat probably wouldn't know what to do with himself in an arcade anyway.

There was Honda-san, who was currently duking it out with Fuku over the tennis game. From Fuku's gleeful expression and Honda-san's intent eyes on the screen, Waya gathered that the former was currently kicking the latter's ass.

Moving on, his eyes picked out Isumi's familiar profile, straddled over the seat of one of the motorcycles. Waya smiled to himself as he admired the lean length of his lover's form, absently noting that it looked good seated almost expertly on a motorbike. It was good having him back, especially since the apartment had begun to feel too large and empty over the last few days.

Seated next to Isumi, obviously racing on the same course, were Komiya, Nase and Iijima-san. Fuku had told him that Iijima-san quit being an Insei soon after the pro exam that had passed him, Shindou and Ochi. Funnily enough, it was only after Iijima-san had quit that he had muscled up the courage to ask Nase out for a date, despite having been Insei classmates for six years. Since then, they'd been a pretty steady item even though Iijima-san had chosen to continue with his studies while Nase successfully pursued her professional go career.

A commotion to his left caught his eye and he looked over to see a laughing Fujisaki Akari attempt to draw her vigorously resisting boyfriend Mitani Yuuki onto the Dance Dance Revolution machine with her. From the sidelines, a cheeky Shindou Hikaru was loudly cheering Akari on, all the while making sure that he was safely out of her arm's reach.

Sensing his approach, Shindou turned around and gave each of his hands a glance before grinning at him. "No luck?" he called over the music of the DDR machine.

"Shut up," Waya growled at his friend good-naturedly.

Laughing, Hikaru turned back to the spectacle Mitani was making of himself as he tried valiantly to free his hand from Akari's grasp, refusing to be pulled onto the platform.

"Yuuki! Please!" Akari was pleading.

"No, no and no!" Mitani answered with mild scowl.

"Just once!"

"No!"

"For me?"

As soon as Akari turned on the puppy-dog eyes, Hikaru knew that Mitani was a goner. The orange-haired boy could never resist Akari's puppy-dog eyes; had never been able to ever since she'd convinced him to remain at the Haze Junior High Go Club after Hikaru left.

"Go Mitani!" Hikaru couldn't resist shouting as his friend stepped reluctantly onto the platform. In return, he got a glare which promised direly that as soon as Mitani was able to get off this machine, he'd be out looking for Hikaru's blood.

Well acquainted with Mitani's glares, Hikaru merely laughed the threat off, grinning as his friend went through the torturous process of song selection. He was just getting ready to make another comment at Mitani's expense when Akari's bright voice broke in.

"Waya-kun will play with me after this, right?" Akari smiled winningly at the brown-haired pro before directing a pout Hikaru's way. "Hikaru threatened to run off if I even suggested it to him."

Hikaru held up his hands, still chuckling, in the surrender position. "Hey, you've got Mitani! What do you need me for?" Then he turned a mischievous expression onto his brown-haired companion. "Waya might indulge you though."

To the contrary, Waya was almost sweating at the suggestion. Needless to say, there was no conceivable way that he would ever willingly let himself be roped into playing a game like DDR. He looked around nervously for an exit before latching onto Shindou and hastily steering the bleached-blonde in the direction of a vacant King of Fighters machine. "Uhh, sorry Fujisaki, Shindou and me were just heading off to play a game."

Resisting the pushing, Hikaru smirked knowingly over his shoulder at the older pro. "We were?"

Chocolate brown eyes glared back at him with a sense of urgency. "Yes, we were."

Hikaru snickered before acquiescing and tossing the other two a wave. "We'll see you two later."

As soon as the two were out of sight of the DDR machine, Waya raised a hand to cuff his friend lightly in the back of the head. "Some friend you are! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Ha!" Hikaru crowed, sitting down and shoving his ¥100 coin into the machine. "I'd like to see you try!"

Waya's eyes narrowed. "This means war, Shindou!"

"You're on!"

-----

Several minutes and ¥100 coins later, amidst muttered curses and near-violent button bashing, Waya was ready to give up and accept the fact that today just wasn't his day.

Hikaru, on the other hand, was having a ball as his on screen character engulfed Waya's in another fiery gout of flames. When the screen flashed white and the large "K.O." sign appeared, he threw up his arms in victory. "Yeah! Take that!" He punched Waya's shoulder lightly and reflexively ducked the return blow. "Did you see that last combo? That was great right? I so kicked your ass!"

Caught up in the moment, Hikaru laughed at Waya, who was rolling his eyes, before swivelling on his chair to look excitedly over his right shoulder. "What'd you think? Pretty cool - " He cut himself off abruptly when he realised that no one was standing behind him to share his enthusiasm.

Waya blinked at the sight of Shindou staring over his right shoulder almost in a state of stupor. Following his friend's line of sight and not seeing anything or anyone of interest, Waya frowned in mild concern. Shindou really hadn't been himself these last few days, constantly looking over his shoulder and then shaking himself with a rueful smile when he obviously didn't see what he'd been looking for. Normally, he'd have asked Touya about it, considering that if anyone knew what was wrong with Shindou, it was probably Touya. But since Touya wasn't here, it was slowly beginning to worry Waya.

"Shindou. Oi Shindou! What're you looking at?"

"Huh?" Hikaru turned back to Waya with still slightly glazed eyes until his brain was able to process the question. "Oh! Nothing. It was nothing. Don't worry about it!" Laughing a little, he raised a hand to wave off his friend's obvious concern.

Waya didn't look convinced. "You sure?"

"Yeah yeah! I'm fine! Don't worry!" He rose from his seat and turned towards the exit. "Hey, I'm gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?" At Waya's shake of the head, Hikaru shrugged. "Okay. I'll be right back!" With that, he was off striding towards the exit.

Waya tracked his friend's departure with quizzical eyes before shaking his head again and getting to his feet to find his lover. Maybe Isumi-san would have some ideas about what was bugging their long time friend.

-----

Absently punching a button on the vending machine, Hikaru bent to collect his drink as it clunked into the tray. He smiled a little as he popped the top and took a long sip, rolling his eyes at himself.

It was almost funny how he kept expecting Touya to be standing behind him when he knew full well that his rival wasn't even in the country. Coming to the arcade just didn't feel the same without the other pro's feigned expression of suffering and raised eyebrow as if to say 'Remind me why I'm here again?'

Hikaru chuckled under his breath at the thought, slumping to rest his weight against the wall beside the vending machine. Touya was never partial to coming to the arcade, preferring to watch whatever Hikaru was playing rather than wander off to play anything himself. He said it was a place where he felt distinctly out of his element, to which Hikaru had always snickered just loud enough to earn himself a hooded glare.

But all that being said, his rival had never once refused to come when invited. And once Hikaru'd explained the controls, the dark-haired go pro was a speed demon on par with the best of them on the Daytona race track. It was getting to the point when racing Touya Akira was becoming synonymous with challenging him to go as a mere lower-dan -- ten to one odds said you were gonna get creamed.

The only one who'd ever managed to come close or even beat Touya on occasion was Isumi-san. It was a fact which never failed to prompt Waya into grousing good-naturedly that it was always the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

With a little wistful quirk of his lips, he idly wondered what his rival was doing right then. Knowing Touya though, most likely in his hotel room, still hunched over whatever game he'd played today. His rival was a go freak like no other.

Except maybe Sai.

Come to think of it, Sai had always been excited to come to the arcade. _"Look! Look! Hikaru! There are people dancing in this box! And it's snowing in the other one!"_ He'd always cheered whenever Hikaru played something, but would nevertheless be begging to go to a go salon soon after. _"Ne ne Hikaru! Let's play go! Hikaru!"_

If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough, he could almost hear the last syllable of his name being dragged out as phantom arms with billowing sleeves encircled his neck. And the answering _"Wai!"_ when he finally acquiesced.

Sai's almost child-like enthusiasm toward go had always been able to bring a smile to Hikaru's face, however grudging it may have been. After all this time, the memory was no different, even if the smiles they induced were no longer the same.

Nowadays, they were almost always bittersweet; sometimes a tad regretful, other times a touch guilty, but never as carefree as they had once been.

-----

Standing against an unobtrusive wall, Waya frowned.

Wandering around the crowded arcade for the last five minutes had revealed neither hide nor hair of his lover. Asking their friends had been a dead end as none had seen the dark-haired pro since he'd finished his last game on the motorcycles. It was puzzling, given that Isumi's tall stature should have been easy to spot over the heads of the crowd.

He was almost ready to give up and simply call when a familiar hand descended over his eyes from behind.

"Looking for me?"

"Maybe..." Waya answered, crossing his arms over his chest in a feigned gesture of nonchalance.

Chuckling quietly, Isumi slid the blinding hand away, taking the opportunity to feather a caress over a smooth cheek before allowing his lover to turn around. All the while attempting to keep his other hand discreetly behind his back.

So in the grand tradition of attempts at hiding things, it was subsequently the first thing Waya noticed.

Waya raised an eyebrow in question, looking pointedly at the hidden hand. "What's going on?"

Isumi's lips curved up, eyes laughing, as he brought out the hand in question and deposited a plushie of a small green dinosaur in Waya's. "Got you something. It reminded me of you."

Studying the small plushie in the strobing lights of the neighboring machine, Waya's brows creased. "Thanks... but why? It's just Yoshi."

Isumi's smile widened. "It is, isn't it... _Yoshitaka_?"

Hoping that the dim lighting hid the blush spreading over his cheeks, Waya wrinkled his nose at his full name. "Only my mother calls me that," he protested, prompting a laugh from the taller man.

"So can I call you Yoshi?"

A positively evil grin spread over Waya's face. "Only if I can call you Shin-chan like Sakurano-san does."

At that, a hint of red appeared on Isumi's own cheeks. "Knew I shouldn't have mentioned that to you."

Snickering at the minor victory, Waya glanced down at the small dinosaur resting on his palm before leaning up the few necessary inches to brush his mouth briefly over Isumi's. "Thanks, _Shin-chan_."

Thus began another round of mirthful chuckles to which the taller of the pair simply shook his head. "You're welcome, _Yoshi_."

He watched Waya laugh for a few moments, a tender expression flitting over his own face before asking, "So was there a particular reason you were looking for me?"

Mind drawn back to the problem at hand, Waya nodded. "Yeah. I think something's wrong with Shindou."

Isumi blinked. "Wrong?"

"He keeps looking over his shoulder and then spaces out when he doesn't see anybody there. I tried asking him about it, and he just said that it was nothing." He scowled. "If Touya was here, I'd ask him, since he'd probably know, but..."

"But Touya's not here," Isumi finished, a contemplative expression falling over his features. "Which could be the problem in itself..."

Waya made a noise of affirmation.

"And you want me to go talk to him because..?"

"Because you're better at these things than I am." At Isumi's skeptical look, Waya waved his hands as he tried to find a better way to express himself. "You know... More subtle. Tactful."

Isumi had to laugh, especially when his lover looked like he'd swallowed something bad as soon as that word had fallen from his lips. "That's because - "

"Yeah, I know," Waya cut him off with a mildly affronted exhalation. "Because I have all the tact of a bull in a china shop. Haven't we been through this?"

The taller pro grinned indulgently, the expression itself communicating more than Isumi ever would through words. "So where is he?"

-----

Stepping out of the arcade truly was an experience like no other. In the space of a second, the gloom receded, and your senses were assaulted by the fact that yes, there were more colors in the visual spectrum than of the neon or clashing variety. And that no, constant noise from all sides of the floor-pounding sort which masqueraded as 'music' or 'sound effects' really wasn't the norm. It also wasn't until you'd stepped out that the funny scratchy feeling from the back of your throat informed your brain you'd been 'speaking' at levels far louder than what you were used to.

Isumi grimaced as he rubbed at his throat in an effort to relieve the aforementioned scratchy feeling. Maybe they should've given more thought to picking a place to get together. Shindou had definitely had the right idea, coming out here for a drink. If that was indeed, all he'd come outside for.

Rounding the corner, the dark-haired pro's brow crept up into his hairline as he caught sight of the younger man.

Slumped against the wall next to the vending machine, drink can dangling from his fingertips at his side, Shindou looked uncharacteristically morose. In fact, with his head lowered and blonde bangs obscuring his eyes from view, Isumi would maybe even go so far as to say that Shindou looked like a defeated man, if any semblance of the word 'defeat' could be applied to the go prodigy.

He walked up with a deliberate scuffle of his shoes against the tiled floor in an effort to warn the other of his approach. But it was an effort that went unappreciated as Shindou never even noticed until Isumi had walked right by him to stand in front of the vending machine.

"Shindou..."

When the bleached-blonde looked up, green eyes unusually dull, Isumi gave him a concerned look. "You okay?"

The last vestiges of bitterness disappeared from Shindou's smile, leaving behind only the usual cheer, albeit a bit dampened, as he waved off the question, rising from his slumped position. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Isumi was unconvinced, but chose not to make a big deal out of the evasion. Instead, he proceeded to dig into his pockets for change, tossing out a casual "You sure?" as if it had been an afterthought.

Hikaru grinned, the light returning to his eyes as they became knowing. "Waya sent you out here, didn't he?"

"No! I was just coming out here for a drink - " Isumi trailed off when he saw amused disbelief written all over the bleached-blonde's face. He then had the good graces to redden slightly. "That obvious, are we?" he asked with a rueful grin before bending to retrieve his drink.

Hikaru laughed. "Just a bit."

"So are you okay?" Isumi couldn't resist prodding.

"Fine, really! Just thinking about some stuff I haven't thought about in a while..."

Isumi inwardly raised an eyebrow at the deliberate vagueness of the answer but decided to let it go. Popping open the tab on his drink, his eyes strayed to the can in Shindou's own hand and blinked to find it not the usual soda. "I didn't think you liked Oolong tea."

"Huh?" Startled, Hikaru looked down at where Isumi was gesturing and laughed, raising his other hand to the back of his head in an awkward gesture. "Oh... I s'pose Touya got me used to it. It's practically the only thing he'll drink."

At that, Isumi smiled. "Speaking of Touya, have you talked to him recently?"

"Tried calling him on Monday, but he wasn't there. Probably at some go salon or something even though it was his day off. You know how he is," Hikaru said with an exasperated roll of his eyes, though the amused grin ruined the overall effect.

Isumi hid his growing smile behind the rim of his can. It was always interesting to talk to Shindou about Touya. Or vice versa, though Shindou was clearly the more talkative of the two. They always made everything between them seem so natural in the course of their deepening friendship, that it was no surprise neither of them realised just how deep their relationship had gone. Or that they had long since transcended the boundaries of mere friendship.

"You miss him?"

"A bit, I s'pose..." Hikaru answered, grinning, after a moment of thought. "There's only so much game re-creation I can stand. And since he's not there, I've been roped into playing more shidougo at the go salon than I care to count. Though it's always fun to see Ichikawa-san's face whenever I leave, in her words, 'like a normal, civilised human being, instead of a preschooler that's just been insulted'."

Joining in the laughter, Isumi privately thought that he could well sympathise with Ichikawa-san's dilemma. After all, he'd certainly witnessed more than his fair share of the now infamous Shindou-Touya post-game outbursts.

"Well, since you've had enough of recreating games, why don't you come out to dinner with us?" Isumi offered when the laughter died down. "Then you can come over after and play a few games with us. It's been a while since we've had a chance to play together."

Still chuckling, Hikaru shook his head as he glanced at his watch. "Thanks, but I've gotta get going. Touya's fish need to be fed, and I've got a tutoring session tomorrow morning." Draining the last of his drink in one swig, he tossed the empty can towards the bin before directing a grin at the older pro and began making his way back towards the arcade entrance. "Next time though, definitely!"

At Isumi's nod, he lifted his hand in a wave. "I'll just go tell the others that I'm leaving and I'll see you later Isumi-san!"

Returning the wave, the older pro gazed thoughtfully at the other's retreating back before it disappeared around the corner.

On the one hand, it would be gratifying to see the two of them finally stop dancing around each other. It certainly wasn't as if either of them were queasy at the idea considering how well they'd taken to the whole thing with him and Waya. And by this time, Isumi wasn't even about to attempt to convince himself that they didn't know, regardless of how much he and Waya didn't advertise their relationship.

But on the other, Isumi wondered if it was his and Waya's place to interfere. After all, sooner or later -- and it did look to be 'later', if they were left alone -- one of them would take a step back and be forced to realise that he had in the other everything one could ask for in a partner. Not to mention that Isumi had doubts as to even the possibility of he and Waya being able to pull off the interference as smoothly has Yang Hai-san had.

Ultimately, it was probably better for them to wait until they were ready to admit to it of their own volition. The last thing he and Waya wanted was to be the ones to throw up a wall of awkwardness between the two.

Sipping at his drink, Isumi shook his head ruefully at his conclusion. Waya would not be happy. If there was one thing about his lover that disappeared as soon as he left the goban, it was his patience.

As if on cue, the brown-haired pro rounded the corner and made a bee-line for Isumi with a puzzled crease in his brow. "Shindou left. And I think he's getting weirder by the minute. He muttered something about how you could tell they were his fish because even they were on a regular schedule... Do you have any clue what he was talking about?"

"I think Touya asked him to feed his fish while he was away in Korea - hey!" Midnight blue eyes aimed a pseudo-glare at cheeky brown ones as the can Isumi'd been drinking from was swiped from his hand. "I was drinking that."

Waya, however, was unrepentant. "I know." Grinning, he guzzled the remains of Isumi's coffee before asking, "So? Did you talk to him about it?"

Flickering his eyes heavenward in affectionate exasperation, Isumi resigned himself to the loss as he answered, "Yeah..."

"And?"

"And he was evasive about it. Said something about thinking about things he hadn't thought about in a while." Isumi smiled slightly. "But I think Touya not being here is a big part of it."

Waya frowned. "So what do we do?"

"I don't think we should do anything." A finger on Waya's lips forestalled the expected protests. "Really, think about it. If we doing something, it might actually make things worse for them. Especially if they're not ready to accept it. Making things awkward for them is the last thing we want to be doing."

"Yeah, but they've been doing this for what? At least a few years. What if they end up doing it for a few more years?"

Isumi chuckled. "Then they'll just end up doing it for a few more. Whatever they're comfortable with. They'll realise eventually."

Waya scowled. "They have an extremely long interpretation of 'eventually'."

Laughing outright, Isumi had to agree. "That they do. Though I don't think we would have been much better if Yang Hai-san hadn't been so impulsive."

"Which is why I still think we should say something!" Waya insisted.

"What would you say?"

The brown-haired pro shrugged, a wicked grin spreading over his face. "I don't know. Probably something like 'Shindou, either get your head out of your ass and tell Touya that you like him, or stop moping. You're getting on my nerves!'"

Isumi laughed. "I somehow don't think that would go down very well."

"But at least Hikaru would understand exactly what you were talking about."

Startled by the unexpected interjection into the conversion, both whirled towards the source of the voice.

"Fujisaki...!"

"Fujisaki-san..."

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**End Part 13... to be continued.**

**End Notes:** A large majority of this part was written I-don't-remember-how-long ago. It's interesting (to me anyway) to note the changes in my writing style over the years. Hopefully, regardless of how much I've cringed at certain parts while reading over this, you still found it an enjoyable read. I'd entertain thoughts about a re-write, but I think I'd better actually finish it before trying to bite off more than I can chew /LOL/ I can only hope that the coming months will afford me a bit more time to indulge in doing so.

Comments and/or questions will, as always, be appreciated.


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